Return of the King
by Lowlife Swaggy Suzi
Summary: Sequel to When the Owl Met Water, read that first! High King Perseus has been pronounced dead, but he has returned! Queen Annabeth of Crete has given birth to child, but the resemblence of the High King shines in the face of the little child. Lady Silena has had a forked prophecy of the King, something that has not happened in ages. Rated T for sexual themes and minor swearing.
1. Chapter 1

The battlefield was the picture of death itself. Men were spread out across the grounds at grotesque angles. All were dead. Some had a sword hanging from a rib, while others had their innards spewed across the ground beside them. A boy barely the age of twelve had an arrow straight in his forehead. Survivors searched the grounds for loved ones. The only survivors were the strongest and the cowardly, but that did not stop them from at last coming together. Blood stained the grass to a blackish hue in the greyish dawn light. So many were dead and there was still no sign of the High King.

Silena of Delphi was holding a damp cloth to Prince Charles's head. Charles groaned and winced as the alcohol touched his wounds. Third-in-command, Thalia, stood sullenly in the corner. She had been counting the dead with one of the King's Companions, but it was hard to see comrades so still and limp. Now, the huntress could not speak, for her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. The woman knew that if she opened her mouth to speak, tears would spew from her eyes. She could not think of the death of Charles, the only man that she had ever come to see.

"Why must it be so that every good man is hurt the most?" Thalia asked silently. Silena looked up from her work. Her kaleidoscope eyes focused into a murky brown, before flashing into another array of colors. She cocked her head to the side and gave her glossy hair a whip.

"It is probably because horrible monsters, such as Darius, feed off their souls until they are reduced to clay. Moldable and formable into anything you aspire for." Silena's words were laced with a bitter sound.

They were silent for a moment, and then Thalia spoke. "I'm sorry for accusing you of a falsehood. You are not a witch, but a prophetess." The other woman nodded and faced Thalia. The prophetess actually studied Thalia for the first time. When the woman commander was not throwing electric bolts at Silena, her gaze was calm and steady. Her blue eyes flashed between an electric blue lit with anger and a beautiful dark, blue that was peaceful but watchful. Her black hair had grown long that was held in a tight braid. A silvery glow circled around her and made her more subtle and surreal. She was truly beautiful, given she wasn't throwing a spear into one's heart.

"You'd perhaps hold a man's eye of interest if you actually let your braid undone." Silena spoke, but her eyes held a mischievous glint within them.

"And I suppose you are a particularly smart daughter of Aphrodite." Thalia chuckled and looked to Charles. Her laughing was stopped by a hard swallow. Her eyes filled with tears she could no longer contain. Silena felt her own tears prickle within her eyes. The lump in the back of her throat exploded and tears blurred her vision.

Charles moaned and winced in his stupor. The two women could only watch with sorrowful filled eyes. The High King was missing, lost or dead. Charles was barely breathing and a horrible fever was beginning to burn up his skin. Silena could not see what the future held. For once in her long and brutal life of visions, she could not see the one person she desired most to see. She had seen the death of Charles and had accepted it. But the King… She could not see anything or even feel her intuition. There was nothing. If the King was dead, then the kingdom would fall behind him. The prophecy had said if the King was to die, the nation was as well.

Greece had forgotten what it was like to live without their High King at their head. If Perseus was dead, the nation would be forced to surrender to the heir of the High King. The heir was Charles… If Charles was to die in this war, it would be another one. But the heir of the High King would not be Prince Charles, because he was already dying. Silena was stuck in her thoughts when the shout interrupted her thoughts.

"THE HIGH KING LIVES!" Shouts of joy and mirth spread throughout the final survivors. Silena and Thalia looked at one another with joy. They rushed outside the tent and onto the open field. Two soldiers helped the King across the barren field. And in that instant, Perseus collapsed. Thalia was already at his side. She pulled his head into her lap. Silena came quickly as she could, but she knew once she reached him the King, he would have no chance.

"My lord." Thalia was crying openly. Her tears drenched the sides of her pale face. As Silena knelt beside Thalia, her heart beat slowed. The King was dying.

Perseus was breathing shallowly. His jacket, tunic and chain mail were all torn from his bloody and scabbed skin. A horrible, bloody wound in his abdomen bled black instead of red. Even his great sea green eyes had become dull and murky. Silena laid a hand onto his heart; it was beating very soft against her palm. She wiped away a tear that came from her eye.

"Perseus, can you hear me, my lord?" Perseus looked to her and struggled to sit up. The two soldiers took his arms to help him. The King smiled weakly at Silena.

"I'm dying Silena. I'm not becoming deaf." He coughed and blood spewed across his chin. His face was ashen and grey, but he still sat up to meet her eyes. Silena became almost as pale as the King. Her eyes widened and her breath intake became increasing more than normal. The men that had gathered around the King did not notice, nor did Thalia or Perseus. The vision gripped her with a force so mightily she could not control it.

It flashed across her eyes like an explosion. There were so many she could not grasp one. Then the final one landed amongst her eyelids for a second longer than the others. It was Perseus…a knife…Queen Annabeth… The pain became too great, but yet another vision slammed into her with the impact of a charging horse. As she cautiously watched, it became the fork of another vision! A forked prophecy? Why, it had not happened in centuries.

None of it made sense, except for one thing. Perseus must not die. Lady Silena tore her eyes open from the visions and looked to the High King. He spoke in quiet tones, but she could see he grew weaker. He will not die. She brought her hand forth, calling upon Apollo for healing powers, and set it upon his chest. "You will not die, my lord. This will make you come back as one of the gods. Invincible." Perseus tried to speak, but his breath was taken from him and his eyes stilled. The great king was dead.

Thalia froze. The remaining men of the King's army had been kneeling quietly around the small group. Now, choruses of anguished and angered cries were released into the air. Screams and vicious insults were thrown, swords were pulled onto brothers and boiling anger was unleashed. Thalia, the only one who could have stopped it, was frozen and speechless. Silena waited in the chaos of it all for it to stop. The two women were in the eye of a hurricane, while the great storm twisted around them.

Chaos finally forced itself into Thalia. She blinked and tears filled her eyes. The King still laid in her lap. His great green eyes stared at the sky blankly. They would see nothing ever again, the huntress thought sadly. She wiped the back of her arm through her tears and looked at the war starting to break out behind her.

"Have you forgotten already?" she asked in a deadly quiet tone. No one had heard her, of course. She hadn't expected them to. Thalia swallowed her anger and tears, looked up to the heavens and prayed to her father. "_Father do not forsake of me. Have you forgotten who your King was?_" Thalia screamed across the field. Her voice projected itself all the way through the barren fields of the dead.

The soldiers stopped fighting and looked to her. They cocked their heads at her. "Have you forgotten that your King took his life for you? Have you forgotten that he united you so brothers would no longer fight? _He did it for you! _You slovenly, pigs! You disgust me! Every single one of you are horrible, conniving swine." Thalia's words were sharp and angry. They sounded like the voice of Zeus. They were so raw and powerful, no man would have denied Thalia at that moment.

"Thalia," Silena whispered silently to her. The huntress gave the lady a glare of hostility. Silena touched the cold forehead of the King. He was growing warmer within. Her heart began to beat faster; if the King came back no war would start. He could not die. It echoed in her mind like a bell. It was sharp and clear like a piece of glass, fresh broken from the bottle. She could not let him die.

**Perseus **

Life. It was so short. Everything was so simple. Perhaps the answer to life had been there all along. He had been so selfish with her. He had not released her, but kept her to himself. He made her into what he wanted her to become. He had changed her into his own creation. She was not meant to be that way. Then the serenity collided with pain. It lit him on fire and burned through him like a match. It exploded like a time bomb across his heart and chest.

Peace turned into fire. Thoughts turned into agony. Everything contorted into a deep burning anger and sorrow. He screamed, but he could not even hear it. Then the pain subsided only to a burning flicker. And then it too, was gone. It all was replaced with blackness. An emptiness so cold and dark opened up to him. A void and blackness vast and endlessly carved itself around him and he was lost.

He thought of only one thing-Annabeth. Her name was like the greatest beacon in the heavens. It created a massive light that turned into a silver flame. He shielded his eyes, but he did not wish to. Annabeth was with him at that moment. He could feel her. He could touch her soft skin beneath his fingers. Her beautiful grey eyes that were so wild and angry they made him want to melt to his knees. The long blond curls she let loose across her strong shoulders. Those shoulders that he wanted to kiss and hold. Everything about her he craved turned into a burning passion and need.

Light from her spread around him; it made a path to the heavens. He felt the pain start to form again as he tried to near it. He fought it with everything he had. He fought it so greatly a form started to twist and turn around him. Skin layered itself onto his invisible spirit. A heart beat pounded in his ears; it was his. His dead heart was pounding in his ears.

_It is not your time. We have tests for you yet Perseus of Argos. _The voices were combined into three snake-like voices. They felt like snake tongues flickering all over his body and mind. They pounded into his head, making him ache in agony once more. He knew these voices. They were the voices of the Fates.

"As do we, Perseus." A clear voice cut through the darkness. The silvery light that Annabeth gave off still glowed brightly, but it dimmed as the darkness faded. The King stood in a cavern. It was round and wide like a circle. Water dripped down from long rocks hanging from the ceiling. The smell of old water and rock blew into his nostrils and whipped around his face. He blinked and felt his cheeks and face. He seemed solid and alive, but how was he to know?

Out from dark corner stepped Hades, Lord of Death. He smiled at the King and bowed slightly with his head. A dark sheet of black hair formed around his head, and a black obsidian crown lay atop his forehead. "Lord Perseus," he spoke.

Perseus kneeled, surprised he could do so. "My lord Hades, am I within your grasp?" Hades looked puzzled, but only for a moment.

"You are held on the cusp between the two worlds of living and dead. Just as the Fates had their tests, we have ours. If you wish to become invincible, godly, and unbeatable you must face the twelve tasks of the Olympians." Perseus hesitated. An eternity without Annabeth or twelve godly tests? There was no question.

"I will take your tests, Lord Hades." The Olympian smiled.

"The hour of your first test is upon you. Stand firm in your faith." He bowed and, in a spiral of black, dissipated into the air. A great light lit in front of him. Blue flashes of light seemed to snake around the man standing before him. His hand was wrapped around a large golden scepter and a large eagle sat atop his shoulder. Perseus went to his knees and kissed the massive ring that was on the god's finger.

"King Perseus," the god smiled at him. "I'm glad to see you are well. With time you will be godly…well if you can pass my task." His crown was large and shined brightly in the light the god gave off. The mortal King's stomach began to turn in unease. The way the god grinned at him made him feel anxiety and fear start to form in his chest.

"My lord, I hope you do not mean for me to…" The god laughed. It shook the whole cavern, making the rocks of the ceiling rock and sway.

"I do, Perseus." King Zeus drew a massive sword from his scabbard and held it to Perseus's face.

"You are stronger than you believe, my boy." Zeus smiled and swung his sword. Perseus slid _Riptide_ quickly from its sheath and deflected the giant blade. He rolled as the god swung it at his abdomen. Perseus got up and felt his heart rate quicken; Zeus would hold nothing back. He closed his eyes in silence, trying to grasp something to focus on. His only thought that surfaced was Annabeth. Her beautiful smile and grey eyes. The sound of her voice. Her body wrapped inside of his that felt like a ray from heaven. He opened his eyes and focused on the god's sword.

The sword became the only thing he saw. Every other aspect of the world faded. He watched the great sword dart towards him. He rolled, parried, side stepped, dodged and leaped. The King did not miss one swing of the golden, flaming sword. He managed to slice a long cut into the colossal arm of Zeus. The god's muscle tensed and tightened in the pain. A long river of golden liquid spewed from the large split of skin. The god laughed and the cut began to knit itself together once more. Perseus breathing was already labored and uneven, but he rolled at Zeus's fourth attempt for the King's leg. The sword snagged his thigh; a searing pain burned through his entire muscle.

He realized the sword was not ordinary, but god-like. It was almost as if Zeus was wielding his power through it. That was the test! It was not that of fighting the god, so much as learning to channel his power into his sword. Perseus felt the bronze sword leap with anger in his hands. The sword wanted his command. The High King looked into his mind, focusing on Annabeth. Her name brought warmth and happiness to his thoughts. He would easily give up the world for her.

_Power does not come from our hands, Perseus. It comes from within. _Perseus looked up at Zeus he smiled secretly at him. "It comes from here." He put a fist over his heart. The young King felt a smile tug at his own lips. He felt a warm sensation run through his blood. It reminded him of when he was boy: his mother would bring him close to her. The fire would tickle his toes and make him feel warmth on the cold winter nights. He felt a tear spring from his great green eye. It slipped down his cheek and landed on the ground. The power within him that had been so raw and untamed was free. It spread through his body and into the sword, as he looked to the King of the gods he felt the sadness break and his soul leap.

"Thank you, my lord." The god became a blur as the tears swam in his vision.

"Perseus, it was not me, but yourself that defeated me. You must conquer the grief of your mother. It will hold you back from enlightenment."

"But my god, I do not wish to be a god." Zeus smiled at him.

"Being a god, my son, is not being given the power. It is something that is earned and won. It is through a man that faces victory as well as defeat. A King as well as a peasant. The hero and the coward. You are that man, Perseus. You are the chosen one of the gods. The next test is at hand, good luck, Perseus." Zeus winked and vanished into a flaming ball of fire.

Perseus stood with his hand still clutching the glowing sword. He wiped the sweat from his brow. He did not know who the next god would be, but he could only fear that it was his father. The ground beneath the High King's feet began to tremble, and the Earth cracking into two. The small stream that ran through the cave's small cavern began to bubble. As the stream grew increasingly larger and the water rose, Perseus knew his father had come.

With a giant blast, Poseidon rose from the water on the back of a pure white stallion. His steed pawed at the ground with anger and untamable fury. The sea god smiled at his son proudly. Tears of joy gleamed in the god's eyes. He stepped from the large stallion and walked to Perseus. He brought his son into him with an embrace. "My boy, I could not be more proud of you." Perseus smiled up at his father.

"A thousand thanks, my lord." His father held his proud smile on his face, but his eyes seemed to turn fearful.

"I must give you my test, my dear son. If I do not, the gods will never allow you to live once more. There is still work to be done to Argos and, as proud as I am of you, I want you to have a child." He looked firmly at the King. His green eyes mirrored the King's own.

"Yes, Father." The High King fell to his knees.

"Rise, Perseus, we have work yet to do. My task of you is to tame the stallion." Perseus looked at the great, white colt Poseidon had sat upon. The massive colt was twenty pous **(that's roughly twenty feet)** tall. His hooves were easily the size of the King's hand, his neck longer than Perseus's leg and his menacing eyes were bright with intelligence. The stallion did not wish to be broken nor trained.

"Father, moments ago you rode to me on this steed. Is he not already steadied if you rode him?" The sea god laughed.

"Perseus, I am the god of horses. I molded the sand and wave dust this stallion's mother is of. My test is if you, the son of Poseidon, may tame the untamable beast." The High King looked into the stallion's eyes that grew dark with warning as he stepped near.

_What is your name, good horse? _The animal reared and hoofed at the King as he came near.

_Come no closer. _Perseus touched the horse's back, but only to be bit on the arm. The animal's teeth pressed hard into the King's hardened flesh. King Perseus felt his own anger ignite, but held it as bay, for the sake of the animal.

_Stallion, must you be so cruel? _

_I am not cruel, King Perseus. _The stallion's eyes focused on the young king. _If you were raised to hate the flesh of man, would you be as me? Distrusting of the man or would you give them your respect and trust as if you had known them the entirety of your life. I am only what man has made me._

Every muscle in the King froze; this stallion was taught to hate man. There was no ray of hope to breaking him. Perseus quickly scanned through his mind for a plan. He searched desperately and found one in the most unlikely place. It was a foolish idea, but it might just work.

With the agility and quickness of a fox, the King leapt onto the immense mass of the horse. The steed reared and the King grabbed hold of the long, iced cream mane. His arms hooked around the massive neck and felt power surge through him. As the beast reared once more, the young king brought his fists tighter around the stallion's neck. "I. Am. Your. King." His words were tight with force.

_You may be my king, but I am no one's subject. _The horse bucked, both brilliant long hindquarters streaked out from behind. He lunged forward down a long gorge; both man and horse struggled and fought as they fell towards darkness. As any animal would, the stallion screamed in the King's ear. The hooves of the animal flailed and dug at the air as they fell. Perseus dug into the sides of the gorge, but they did not slow.

"Must you be so ignorant, horse? Gorges are not for escaping, but death!" He flung his sword into the side of the rock wall, this slowed the pair's fall. He clung to it, for everything that his people were worth. "Put your hooves like a bridge across the channel! If you stop our fall I can reach the top, but you must do as I say." The King commanded to the beast. The great stallion only screamed once more and continued to panic. _His name. _King Perseus realized, the horse's name would give him power. Name's held power, regardless of whom they were of.

"Horse, what is your name?" He screamed above the whistling darkness. The only answer he received was a snap of stallion's teeth. "We are about to die, you stupid animal! What is your name, so I may save us?" The horse looked into the King's eyes. They were so dark and mean, but a beautiful soul was locked inside. The great beast was scared. Fearful of his life just as the High King.

"Tell me of your name and I will save us."

_Ortagus. _

As the horse spoke his name, the fall slowed. Time did as well, and the King now knew what was to be done.

_ I will not release you to death, Ortagus. _The horse stopped fighting with vengeance, but this only quickened the slowing fall. Perseus found the power surging up his arms and into the palms of his large, powerful hands. High King Perseus opened his clenched fists and water poured from them with the force of a canon. The water smacked the bottom of the gorge rising the horse and King to the entrance of the giant crack. Slowly, Ortagus and Perseus both ascended up the cavern once more.

Once on the stone floor of the cave, Ortagus was calm and willed to whatever Perseus wished. He looked his father in the eyes and smiled at him. "He is tamed Father." Poseidon laughed and clapped his son on the back.

"You will do many a great feat, my boy! I know you will succeed!" He helped Perseus off of his great steed. With a laughing smile and rear of Ortagus, the sea god was gone. There were still ten gods with a task for him. How would he face them all?


	2. The Tests Continued

**A/N: Sorry guys, writers block and summer reading occupy my time. I just didn't have the motivation to write :/. But I loved all the favs, alerts, and urging reviews to get me going. So I thank you so, so, so, so, so, so much! Here you go! **

**Annabeth **

It was as if the world was falling. Tiny pieces of life shredded around her. It was like the sky was falling or the ground crumbling beneath her feet. The world was ending. Armageddon had come and destroyed every last bit of joy and security in her life. That's when the agony came. It came like a massive tidal wave, washing away the final life of her. Who could have known that with death, would have brought so much pain and suffering for the one still living.

"Queen Annabeth, are you alright?" The queen looked up at the voice who had spoken to her. It was the sad, remorseful envoy from the High King's army. She could only stare at him. Her voice lost in an endless oblivion of vast darkness. Lia said something to the child, but Annabeth did not hear. As a matter of fact, she did not even breathe. He could not be dead. It could not be…

"Annabeth? Sweetheart, are you well?" Lia touched Annabeth's cheek. Her eyes studied the queen's face. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her gently to the bed. Annabeth looked outside as Lia laid her gently across the bed, was it night? It had been dawn when she had received the news. Lia tucked the blankets deeply around her.

"Love, I've got some herb tea, you have to drink it." Annabeth blinked and saw the dawn breaking over the darkness once more. The teacup Lia had brought to her was empty. He couldn't be dead… The only life she had ever known of joy had contained him… Perseus couldn't be dead…

**Perseus **

Hades had been frank. Watch your comrades without shedding a single tear. In battle, as Perseus had learned, it was mourn or be killed. Once the battle was done and the last enemy was defeated to a man, then the soldier could cry. "You must be strong or fail." The King nodded in understanding.

"My lord, I am willing to take up your task at hand." Hades laughed. The God of Death set one palm on the High King's arm. He transported the King to a tall, grassy escalade. Soldiers of the Skeleton Army of Hades stood silently in rows. "Must I defeat them all?" Hades raised an eyebrow.

"That is not my test. I know that you are a warrior king, Perseus. What you know not is that you must not let the death and pain affect you." He gestured to Perseus's dearest friends and comrades standing behind him. Without the thought of himself doing it, Perseus raised a hand towards the dead army in front of him. He cried out war against the skeletons. He tried to call back his commands; his army was so few, and Hades' army so large. But his loyal commanders, friends and generals all ran at the army as if hell was chasing at their heels.

It was a bloodbath. Perseus rose past the flying scarlet liquid and whipped his sword through the broken ribs and soulless creatures. He hadn't realized the enormity of what Hades had said until he looked upon it. The King caught only a moment of a skeleton warrior running a sword through Charles. He wanted to run to his friend and stand beside his side, but he knew he couldn't. He knew he had to go on if he ever wanted to see Annabeth or Charles again.

Perseus ran through the armies of the undead. He reduced them into piles of dust and bones. The great King watched as each and every one of his friends were killed and fatally wounded. But then a golden-haired maiden stepped from beneath the piles of bones. Her unsettling, grey eyes narrowed at a skeleton general. Perseus knew by the way she walked, the way her hair moved as she did that it was _her_.

"ANNABETH, NO!" He cried as she wielded a sword to the undead warrior. The skeleton turned and grasped onto her neck. Her defiant grey eyes stared at him, not showing a single drop of fear. She turned and looked at the King with sad, but brave eyes. She gave a half smile, before the skeleton warrior squeezed her neck. Perseus looked away as the battlefield was filled with a great snap. He cried out and sunk to the ground.

"You are very brave, Perseus. Not a single tear; not even for the woman you love." Perseus looked to Hades.

"Why?" was all the man could muster. The Lord of Death put an arm around the son of Poseidon's shoulder.

"Death is an inevitable part of life, Perseus. Neither man nor god can even fight the Battle of Death. You have already learned that each and every life lost in war is placed on your shoulders. But you grieve, Perseus, when the time has come. To live with the weight of death on one's shoulders is a crushing and, usually, lethal weight. But you have proven to me that you are stronger than I perceived. I honor you in that." Hades gave a small bow. He placed a large hand over Perseus's hair.

"I give you my eternal blessing. You have passed my test." Hades pulled the King from the battlefield and back to the cavern. When Perseus looked up once more, the god was gone.

Watching Annabeth die in front of him, without having either the ability to stop it or the right to mourn had been death itself. Perseus had faced monsters beyond imagine, united a fierce warring nation and petitioned for peace throughout the country. But never had a hardship such as that had come about. Perseus was frozen with a cold grief. It was in that moment that he feared defeat. Perseus could not lose the battle against the gods. If he did, it would be the end of him and Annabeth.

A bright, glowing orb floated in front of him. It was bright and inexplicably brilliant. A peacock strode through the cavern, flaunting his beautiful feathers. The gem-like blue and sea green was beautiful and puzzling at the same time. As the bird spread its wings, a gorgeous middle aged woman, with long auburn hair, stepped from behind the great bird's feathers. She smiled kindly at Perseus her bright eyes twinkled with love for him. "Perseus, my son." She hugged him openly. Her skin held the scent of a babe's breath and her hair was soft and welcoming.

"Hera, my lady." He bowed before her. He took her hand and kissed the back of her palm lightly. "You look beautiful, as always." She chuckled and waved him away.

"King Perseus, you make me feel young again. Like I felt when Zeus first declared his love for me. Many a year ago was that." She smiled and touched his cheek. "You will have children, Perseus. I will test the importance of family to you. How far will you go to save them?" She stepped aside and raised a hand. A round circle of rock rose from the gorge in the middle of the cavern. On top of it held Queen Sylvia and Annabeth. Four large Hellhounds surrounded them. Perseus screamed out and leaped across the wide channel towards his mother and beloved.

Perseus stood his ground and faced the four large, hell-raised creatures. The Hellhounds bared their long, fierce fangs at him. He smiled and split his sword through them in one swipe. The dogs erupted in mounds of ash and flakes of sand. He wiped sweat from his brow and turned to Annabeth and Sylvia. His mother cried out and embraced him, but she began to sob deeply into him.

"Perseus, just look at how you have grown?" Perseus touched her cheek. A tear ran down his face.

"Mother…" He swallowed hard. Her eyes widened.

"You mustn't give in now! My king, you will do many great things, yet. Go!" She smiled and laughed.

The tall spiraling rock that Annabeth and Queen Sylvia had been standing on had been sinking slowly, but the final rock broke and it began to fall at the speed of light. Perseus reacted hastily. He threw his sword into the bedrock that they were quickly approaching. With a quick hand he snagged Annabeth and his mother, and grabbed the sword with the other. "Hang on, Mother!" He concentrated with all of his might and power on the crumbling ground beneath him. He raised twin pillars of rock from the ground.

"Get on!" He flung them onto the nearest column rising from the hot rocks beneath them. Grasping both their hands, he willed the rock to rise faster. In his haste, he met Hera at the top of the gorge. She smiled and stepped aside for the King. He helped his mother onto the cave floor, but Annabeth was gone. He looked to Hera.

"Don't let the ghosts of the past haunt you, King Perseus. You have passed my test well enough. I grant you onto the next." She smiled and hugged him. "Cherish your family Perseus; it will be the only thing you have left when everything else has fallen." She called to her peacock and the great bird danced over to her. She smiled and left in a flash of light.

Perseus sighed and sat down awaiting the next god to approach him. The cavern was filled with a beautiful scent of jasmine and jade. He saw a warm glow start to grab at his heart. His thoughts carried to Annabeth, he loved her more than anything. He would do anything to get her back. A reddish hue filled the cavern when his thoughts traveled to her. A beautiful woman with long, red locks stood powerfully before him. Her eyes flashed so many different colors, and addled the mind out of focus. She gave him a beautiful, breathtaking smile.

"King Perseus of Argos, my, what a ways you have come." The goddess had clear, flawless skin that seemed to radiate a fresh, clean scent. Her own lips were full and soft. "Shall we skip to the chase or make idle small talk?" Perseus chuckled. Silena definitely bore resemblance to the goddess.

"My lady Aphrodite, your test is my command." He kneeled to her. And she smiled slyly.

"Don't ever underestimate the power of love, Perseus." With that her face morphed into the second most beautiful woman in all the land. Princess Regina of Sparta. Her long, luscious dark hair spread over her open breasts and down to her stomach. She leaned against a rock exposing every inch of her. Perseus stared with amazement. She was flawless and untouched with fault.

"Gods' wounds…Regina." Perseus whispered. He moved towards her almost lured by her spell. The princess ran the tip of her tongue across the top of her teeth. She slipped a hand around his waist pulling her naked body against him.

"My lord…" She whispered in his ear. Perseus breathed in her scent. Something utterly important screamed in the back of his mind. But Regina's beauty and charm were blocking all of it. She seemed to seek his desire for a woman. He couldn't remember her name… What was it? She gently ran her lips across his neck. He let out a low moan, his knees felt weak.

"Regina…I-I…" He tried to speak, but she smiled delicately and placed a finger to his lips. Her eyes showing mystery and warning.

"Do you love me, King Perseus?" Her words were sweet and rolled like rich liquid that dripped across a smooth surface. King? He had united Greece for someone. Her name… A flash of memory exploded into his vision. Two stormy, fierce grey eyes looked into his.

"Annabeth! I love Annabeth with my heart and soul, goddess!" Regina smiled proudly and her face morphed once more into Aphrodite. Her eyes were happy and joyful.

"You will succeed, Perseus. I have never run across a man with as much love and lust in his heart for one woman, as you. You will live!" She laughed and wiped away a tear.

"I will never stop loving Annabeth, my lady. She is my sun in the day, my stars at night and my heart for eternity." Aphrodite smiled.

"Poseidon has chosen his chosen son well. I swear to aid you as much as I can, Perseus." The King smiled and nodded at her request.

"Thank you, my lady."

"Remember my test Perseus; you must _never _underestimate the power of love." She blew a kiss and stepped into a glowing crack in the ground. Her eyes met his one last time before the Earth overtook her.


	3. A Little Love Goes a Long Way

**A/N: Sorry guys, I just started school things have been hectic! I promise to update sooner and if I don't its because my damn teachers have been swamping me in homework! Anyway here ya' go! Enjoy -F.H **

**Annabeth**

A sharp pain in her lower body awoke her. The queen sat up in her bed and massaged the aching area. Every thirty minutes it seemed, the aching would come. She breathed deeply and got up. Annabeth opened the door and called for Lia. Her nurse came rushing into the dark room, her eyes were curious and questioned.

"Lia, I'm aching in my stomach." Lia raised an eyebrow and walked over to the queen. She laid a hand on the babe and rubbed around. A light smile lit up her face.

"It's not your stomach, love, it's the child. He's coming." She helped Annabeth back to the large bed. "Sleep in the coming hours, you'll need your rest."

**Perseus **

As the trials were coming to him as quick as water, the King barely had time to realize he was already to his sixth test. If he could successfully complete this test, he would be halfway to Annabeth. He thought of her. She had been seven moon cycles in when Perseus had last heard of her. He didn't know the time pass here, what if when he arrived back a hundred years had passed…she would be dead and gone. No! He wouldn't let that happen.

The Sun god Apollo appeared to him next. His glowing hair, body and personality were unpredictable at times. His test was simpler than the other gods, for it was not a test of strength, but rather a test of sword skill. At last, something the King excelled at.

"Many men have told me you have killed monster beyond imagine, am I clear?" Perseus leaned against a rock pillar.

"Yes, my lord, what you say is true." The Sun god gave a conniving smile.

"So, you are a master?" Perseus's eyes widened.

"No, good Apollo, I am far from mastering." The god laughed and rays of sunshine broke through the cracks of the rock.

"Perhaps that is only what you believe. My test, Perseus, is more of your use of sword skill and hand. Kill the beasts I throw at you, and you pass." Perseus swallowed and felt terror sink into his blood. He stuffed it deep inside of himself and looked at the god with courage.

"Give me everything you have, Lord Apollo." The god laughed.

"As you wish, King Perseus."

Almost immediately, the King regretted his decision. Beasts of utter and pure horror came crawling out of a large crack in the ground. Some were just as large as Lord Apollo in full form, and some were smaller than a thumbnail. Never had there been a time when Perseus feared defeat. His fear grabbed up through the pits of his stomach and into his hands; this made them unsteady and rattled when he fought. His sword slipped in his hands and created a challenge on its own.

He had only hit the tip of the great ice berg, once he would slay one creature, four more would emerge. His hope was barely treading; it was about to drowned in the vast pit of helplessness. Then he remembered something. A smile that made his heart stop. A laugh that made the world seem small. He breathed in and focused on the charging monsters. Then the anger was unleashed. Like a knife flown into the oblivion, Perseus's anger erupted without control. His sword flew by its own will and murdered everything that tried lay hand on him. The small monsters were crushed under his speeding feet, and the large collapsed after he mercilessly slayed them.

The anger was what kept him going. It folded out into the unknown limits, the King had never taken this much of it. Hot, white rage kept flowing into him. It was like a power in itself. He wielded the sword until there was nothing left. Dust, innards and sand lay around him like mountains. He looked up at the glowing god.

"Have I passed my lord's test?" The god smiled and nodded.

"You have succeeded Perseus, don't give up hope now. You have half a fold to complete!" He disappeared into a glowing light orb.

Perseus sat down and awaited the next god. They were becoming more arduous and difficult as the gods came. He could only imagine what the next would be. Of the gods whom he had faced, they were the easy half. Now, the other side of the mountain was coming. The climb had been difficult itself, but now the downside would be slippery and sharp.

The next daring god that Perseus was to face was Hephaestus. The large, twisted god was demanding and intolerable of nonsense. His presence was made known to the King by a silver spider dropping down on top of the High King's head. With a simple flick of his powerful fingers, the mechanical spider faltered and crumbled in on itself. The god crossed his strong arms and looked at the King.

"You must think you're the greatest thing known to man." The god grumbled. Perseus's eyes widened with alarm and mistrust.

"My lord, I do not think such at all! My intention was never to cause waves of disruption between you and I." The god narrowed one lopsided eye at the High King. "My lord, all I could ask for is to be returned home to my kingdom. Where my family and friends are, please?" The powerful god drew a hammer and wiped away a speck of black oil from the top.

"If I allow you my test, you must honor my son." Perseus fell to his knees and bowed his forehead to the rocky ground of the cavern.

"Great and glorious Hephaestus, I vow to make Charles a great king once I return home. I swear of it on my ennoble and tarnished life." This seemed to satisfy the god. He slung the hammer back in his leather belt. Perseus took notice that the belt was the size of four of him piled on one another.

Hephaestus opened his palm and danced out a large, fiery ball. His dark eyes became transfixed on the great, glowing ball. "To pass my test, son of Poseidon, you must learn to live in fire like a son of myself. Breathe in it like air, embrace it like it is normalcy and love it like it is your wife. Master it and I will let you move on." With that all around the High King erupted flames.

At first, the smoke suffocated him. It sunk inside of him and stole his breath. It weaved itself around his heart and lungs, slowing killing him from the inside out. Smoke was strong, but the flames were fierce and the enormity of their power had no limit. They licked his hands and face, making him scream out in agony. He sunk to his knees, feeling the fire envelope him with desire and power. Despite the pain, the fire almost was seductive.

It lead a trail of beauty and serenity in its harsh flames. His power from his father would be of no help to him in this challenge. He was on his own. _Master the flame…_ The thought echoed in his mind. He screamed from the heavy pain of the fire on him, it was eating not only his flesh, but his hope. He stood and breathed in through the pain. _Master the flame. _

Perseus curled his fingers and took a breath of air. He breathed in smoke and it tripled the agony inside of him. The fire was now all he saw, it was what he could taste, smell, hear, and feel. King Perseus let himself over to the flame. He let it boil inside of him. He let the hateful anger he held be released to the flames. And then it all broke. The fire resided into him. It hardened his flesh, making his muscles indestructible and hard as iron.

Flames and anger coursed as one together into the King heart. His muscle burned and cried out, but that, too, broke. It hardened and became invincible and pure as the light. He clenched his fists together and flame came forth from his fingertips. He was one with the flame. In order to control it he had to have given up himself to the fatal flame. Now, he was the master of the fire.

"Well, the son of the ocean has conquered the flame." Hephaestus stood back and the flames disappeared. Perseus felt his breath return, but the new power coursed through his veins. His strength was renewed and more powerful than it had ever been. He smiled at the god.

"My lord, I will honor your son till the day I die. Even in Elysium I will honor him." The god raised an eyebrow.

"So quick to say you will take Elysium, are we?" Perseus smiled slyly.

"In all due respect, my god, I believe after all this I will achieve it." Hephaestus laughed and a tiny flame arose from his hand.

"I think you may have a slip of a chance, King Perseus. If you don't go making a mess of things." The god gave one last cunning smile to the King and left in a storm of fire. Perseus sat back on the charred rocks. His new power was running through him. He couldn't believe it. Fire. Fire? The unspeakable power of Hephaestus, and he received a quarter of it. What were the gods planning next?

Almost as if by chance, a blinding light appeared and the smell of warm bread and grain reached his nostrils. He closed his eyes and savored it for a moment. He knew what the next god would be. He opened his eyes and met Demeter's dark one's. He bowed deeply, kissing the goddess's hand. "My goddess, you shine like the sun on a warm spring day." Demeter gave a warm smile to the young King.

"I'm the seventh god you must face, young man. I may not be the last, but do not put my test aside so easily." The demigod furrowed his brow.

"Madam, I would have to be a fool to think a goddess's test is much easier than any gods'." The grain goddess smiled.

"Good, I didn't take you as foolhardy, but I can never be sure about mortal kings." Perseus threw back his dark head and laughed. He looked back at the goddess.

"You have reason to believe that, my dear lady." The goddess gave a warm smile. Her dark eyes were warm and kind like a mother's. They reminded the King of a sweet pastry that had come fresh from the oven. Gentle and sweet like a newborn foal. She cupped her palms, and as if by magic, a small tree began to grow between them.

"Perseus, son of the divine, what is my gift?" She cocked her head and her long dark hair slid to the side of her face. Perseus's brow furrowed.

"Growing, my lady, you control the growing seasons of Greece." The woman nodded.

"Good, but I also give life." High King Perseus leaned against his sword's hilt.

"How do you mean, my queen?" She squeezed her palms so mildly, one might not even have noticed, but the effect was astonishing. The small sapling sank down in between her palms and browned. She blew gently on the little tree and it resurfaced again.

"Trees, unlike humans or gods, have amazing powers. We will never understand how a little sapling, such as the one you see here, can even bear to live after so many hardships. My test for you, Perseus, is to seek your inner tree. If you can find it, then my test is passed and you may move on." She smiled and handed him the sapling. "Do not let the tree die. You will receive three chances. On the third chance if the sapling dies by your hand, you will fail." She gave a sad nod and brushed the dirt from her hands.

Perseus uneasily looked at the plant. Demeter laughed at the King's discomfort. "Let the tree live and you pass. Oh yes, and Perseus, the tree can only grow by my hand and the chosen one's." She seated her soft, golden gown around her and sat down on a nearby stone. The young king glanced at the increasingly, decrepit plant. He poured water from his hands, hoping the small plant would appreciate the water. The sapling drooped farther, and yellowed to a sickly brow. Perseus looked up at Demeter.

The goddess had an amused expression upon her face. "This is your second chance." She grew up effortlessly another small sapling. She handed it to the King smiling once more. He took it and dropped the old one. Demeter watched King Perseus with interest.

"Try to look into the little tree's soul, Perseus. Seek the thoughts and mind of the tree, before you look for a need." She crossed her long legs and leaned back. Perseus blinked at the goddess. _Alright, Perseus, listen to the tree's thoughts. _He commanded himself to do as the goddess asked. He concentrated and looked at the tree. He heard nothing, but the sound of a small breeze shifting through the empty cavern.

All the King's concentration was not enough for the little tree. It yet again, drooped. Perseus clutched his hands in anger and fire spewed from them. He threw the little tree down in anger and felt the fire course through him until it was doused by the water running through him. He hissed under his breath, "I don't understand." Demeter gave a tender, smug smile at the King. It reminded him of an adult giving a child a false smile. He curled his fists in anger.

"Not as easy as the child thinks, is it?" Demeter smiled wryly. Perseus blew out of his mouth in a frustrated manner. "This is your last chance, young king. _But_, before I give you this sapling and you fail yet again, remember this: until you forget the pompous thoughts in your head or the one you love or the ridiculousness of the situation, you will not succeed." Perseus met her eyes. They were genuine and bona fide. He nodded and cupped his hands. Then with the utmost gentleness he took the baby plant.

Everything vanished from the King's mind. He kept the lingering thought of Annabeth on the brim of his thoughts, but just the initial sound of her name brought his heart overfilling with love. He controlled the love she gave him to the tiny plant in his hands. As the young tree started to droop, Perseus released the love Annabeth filled him with. For a moment, the small tree didn't react, but then it picked itself and shook itself out before rocketing up to the cave ceiling.

Perseus set the juvenile tree down onto the cave ground; the roots were extending past his feet and through the thick bedrock. He looked at the goddess. She gave a proud smile and winked at him. "You almost must have love in your heart for life to move, don't you, young man?" The King nodded still speechless by his work.

"And now, Perseus, you will face the hardest gods. The last of us have prepared our worst for you. Don't lose your faith, your almost finished, my boy!" She laughed and touched his cheek. She picked up her golden skirt and swirled it around her until she dissolved into a warm breath of fresh bread.

Perseus fell to his knees, the tree stood before him. It was bursting into bloom now. Small, pink flowers were growing from the skinny branches. It seemed to take on a soft, golden glow in its gentle youth. Had he really done it? Grown a tree? A tree to be only sprouted by Demeter's palm? Wielded fire? A gift to be spun only by the children of Hephaestus. The gods weren't testing him…they were making him their own.


	4. The Last Olympian

**(So who's a dumbo that can't count, me! **** So bear with me, I didn't count the Olympians right so it'll say that he only faced eleven but really he did all twelve, but I'm stupid and miscounted! **** Sorry it took me FOREVER TO UPLOAD! I've just been soooo busy and haven't time to sit down and right, which is sad because you guys know I love doing that, so I made this chapter extra special and hope you guys enjoy it. OH WAIT! Thanks so much for all the reviews and alerts and favorites I get, you guys keep me going ****)**

**Perseus **

The King felt his hand slip on his grip around _Riptide. _His opponent was advancing on him with fierce and fluent skills of sword mastery. Ares was not to fight Perseus, himself, but to send one of the most prolific sword masters of all time to defeat him. The war god had given no warning as to whom it would be... The great master was none of other than Achilles himself. The dark-haired hero, much like himself, teased him, tested him and drove the younger man to the edge of his wits. The son of Thetis seemed to drag the battle on for hours.

When Perseus was about to surrender, Achilles would pull back, allowing the mortal King to breathe. "Young king, you do not use the gift." He sauntered around him, practically leaping with energy the High King no longer had.

"What gift?" The King asked, slowly blocking a jab from the great hero. Achilles smiled and pulled his sword back.

"Well, firstly, get yourself in order, man! War is upon you! Your men are falling dead at your feet, and what do you do? Give up? Throw in your spear? Do you think you can quit because you are tired? Neigh, I say to you! King Perseus, you who has fought in the most awesome and epic battles, how can you compare yourself to this? You may be tired and weary of your great trials and tribulations of today, but you cannot ever give up!" He crushed his sword against the rock beneath him.

Perseus listened to Achilles words with intent. What the great hero said was true, but the meaning of Ares's test still remained unclear to him. He could not think on defeat at the moment. He was only on the eighth god, but he could not arm victory. "But, my great lord, you have had three long years to rest up for my battle with you." Achilles laughed at the young king's words.

"I've had a lifetime of training for my battle with you. I've heard stories about you, King Perseus. Your skill is said to be comparable to mine. Rumors, is what I thought essentially, but I can see it in your eyes you are more. You have the power to surpass me, Perseus. You have everything you need, but you need to get it up in your mind." He pressed his hand to his forehead.

"Why is it that every time I go to fight one of the gods, my skill never shows itself to me?" He added a frustrated sigh at the end of his words. Achilles laughed at Perseus's desperation.

"Never give into the heat of battle, Perseus. Courage!" He shouted and raised his sword and ran at the King with fierce speed. Perseus breathed in and prepared himself for the impact of the great hero. He brought his sword up and blocked quickly, Achilles gave him a knowing smile and brandished his sword once more.

Man to man, the demigods fought with extraordinary ability. Achilles speed and wit was undeniably, brilliant. But the King's skill was comparable to the great hero's. The chosen son of the gods had been right; Perseus was amazing with a sword in his hand. He blocked everything that Achilles threw at him. He managed to make the hero follow him around the cavern, eventually backing him up to the edge of the gorge. The great hero looked behind his back, seeing rocks crumble to the darkness below.

Startled by the King's quick-witted ability to maneuver him to his death, Achilles smiled at King Perseus. "I'm surprised, Perseus. I thought you had given up." Perseus gave a wry smile to the man.

"Honor to you, my lord, but I never will give into the heat of battle until my heart stops beating." Achilles gave the High King a proud smile.

"Spoken as a true hero, Perseus. Now, if you'll excuse my rudeness, I must be going to feast over victory." Perhaps the greatest hero of all time raised his sword to Perseus in a soldier's salute. "Till our hearts stop beating, my dear friend." Perseus smiled and raised his own sword in confirmation. Achilles slid his sword home into the scabbard and walked with boldness out of the cavern. He didn't give a last glance back to Perseus. For he was the type of man to never regret his actions and it was for that reason that Perseus honored him above all men.

The eighth god. Three more to face and he would be home to Annabeth. He felt like he could fly to her, but he couldn't. He was trapped in this gods forsaken cavern until they released him of the trials. He wanted to do away with the labors, but they held him close. He could not stand the slow, sinking seconds between each one. The young king wanted to be done, like any young man; he was impatient and wanting to learn.

Warmness trickled into his heart and a great wave of love circled around his heart for his home city, Argos. He missed the bustling streets, the beautiful ocean that surrounded it, and the great people that served him. His home was where he wanted to be now more than anything. A soft, flickering light appeared. A young woman was brought forth from the light. A soft, gentle flame circled around her feet. Her subtle, but vibrant appearance made her a beautiful woman. She gave him a light smile. Her long, crazed reddish hair was laid across her back like a blanket.

King Perseus bowed before her. "Queen Hestia, I am honored to receive your test." The young woman's full lips turned upward in a warm smile.

"Dear Perseus, how I have missed the days when you were a boy. I remember you used to play along the shoreline of the great Mediterranean. Charles and you would race ponies along your father's domain, but all this happened at your dear home, Perseus. Can you begin to guess what my test may be?" The King was clueless as to what the goddess's test would be. She had always made Perseus puzzled. Her power lasted to the life of one. The home. Home was where the heart of every being was planted, where they were brought into the world.

Family, love, death and birth all happened at the home. The home was where all life circled. It was there that Perseus was at peace. He always felt at home with Annabeth. Her body contouring perfectly to fit his, that's where he found his peace of mind; his home was with her. But as to what the goddess had in store for him, the King had naught a clue. He made a point to look un-phased by her question.

"Dear goddess, I'm sure your trial is as powerful and fierce as all the other gods." The Queen of the home smiled kindly at the King.

"Do you understand what peace means, dear Perseus?" The son of Poseidon hesitated for a moment.

"My lady, I always thought peace was where we are felt loved and included. Where man and spirit are fully at rest and combined." She smiled widely. She clasped her hands behind her back. Her gentle eyes were smoldering lightly in the dull light of the cavern.

"You show much knowledge for the age of yourself, young king. Tell me more." The High King thought over his words for a minute. He gathered Hestia's test was not like the other god's own trials. Hers was simple, but it meant everything. Say the wrong word and, alas, he would fail.

"My mother always told me, my queen and goddess, that peace is found in the hearts of the men who strive for the happiness of others. Whom can find the quiet reverie of the world, away from all corrupt war and retribution and still give back the world their mind and soul. And yet…still never abandon their friends and lovers. To never forget the past and gore that they have faced." Hestia's wide and calm eyes settled on his.

"And tell me, Perseus, why do you not follow your own mother's virtue?" Perseus removed his gaze from her. Her well-focused eyes made it hard to look into. Her eyes seemed to see into the depths of his tarnished soul, sense his guilt, and yet, see the pure good and resolve inside of him.

"I don't know, my goddess. I have naught found why, but my anger controls me. It grabs hold of my life and takes me to another place where I blindly kill anyone in my path."

"You have your father accountable to that, but Perseus, peace is found in anger."

"With all due respect, my lady queen, but is all this mingle necessary? Where is my trial, my fight?" Hestia studied him once more with curious and unselfish eyes.

"Perseus, do not think of this as a test, but as a lesson. I wish to see you at your home, but with a new outlook onto your realm." Perseus's eyes flooded with tears as the goddess's kindness.

"Goddess…thank you…" He murmured to her. He wept at her feet, kissing her clean and soft feet.

"But first," her voice demanded authority, "you must prove yourself to me, my dear." The High King nodded and looked up to her.

"My lady, I swear by your name to honor your wish of peace."

"First, my dear Percy, you must learn your lesson. Peace, as I was saying, is used in your anger. You must use the quiet focus it offers, and bend it to your righteous will. If you use peace to your advantage, it will grant you much power. Seek the quiet peace in your soul, forgive those who have wronged you and unleash the fire." Her eyes flamed as her last words tumbled from her tongue. "The anger."

Perseus's skin tingled as her words drove themselves into his soul. He shuddered at her fierce, unmerciful gaze. Her eyes seemed to ignite with a flaming hatred for evil. "To find the peace of yourself, Perseus. You must journey home to find those evils and find the peace of yourself. If you do not listen to the words I have spoken to you of, you will…in fact, Perseus, fall and your kingdom will as well."

The King bent onto one knee and took her hand and kissed the air above it. "I promise, my lady, to carry out your wishes. You will be honored in my kingdom, every man, woman and child will know of your good graces. Thank you, my lady." The goddess seemed so intent on the King. She smiled lightly.

"Perseus, don't forget your home. Keep the peace in your heart." She raised her chin and showed her regal attitude. Her queenliness radiated and her gentle brown eyes glimmered with greatness. Perseus nodded to her request. She picked up her flaming dress and turned around, her long, fiery locks bouncing against her back. She pushed against the rock of the cavern. Light poured from the hole, Argos shined brightly beneath the gaping hole.

High King Perseus pressed his hand against the rock. The fresh air breathed onto his face. It all seemed so far away. "Because it is, Perseus." He looked back and the next god stepped forward. A beautiful woman with long, silvery, golden hair looked at him. She stepped up the shadows, beside her strode a large white wolf. She laid a soft hand onto the massive beast's head.

"Sovereign Queen, excuse my rudeness." He bowed to her feet. She bid him rise, but her eyes studied him with lack of interest. Her face was full of youth and her skin was soft like a new babe's bottom. The soft, silvery glow that glowed around her showed her divinity and strength. But it was the goddess eyes that truly got into the mind of the man. Her midnight, blue eyes shimmered like two beautiful, bottomless pools.

"It will be excused for now, young king. But the time has come for your tenth test. Do you wish to flatter me? Or see your earthly city or Argos?" The goddess walked around him, her dark eyes scanning him like a tiger. She was stalking him, sizing him up. Her eyes were that of a predator's, she was smart and willing to pounce whenever she saw opportune.

"By all means, my lady, give me my test. I only want to return home to my humble kingdom." She smiled brightly.

"I have never had reason to dislike you, Perseus. Therefore, I want to see you succeed. I have never had much respect for the man, but you are different, Perseus. You have taken good care of Thalia, made her rise up in your kingdom. You formed her into a powerful, young woman. I am glad. So, I want to see you win. My task is not simple, but it is not the most difficult you have faced." She pulled a silver-tipped arrow from her quiver. She ran her fingers down the long, rose-wooded arrow. The beautiful tip had a tiny silvery dear engraved into it. She handed it to the young king.

"Send my arrow to the heart of that rock." She pointed to a rock that hung above on the high-arched ceiling of the cavern. It was an almost impossible shot. The King lacked of an archery skill. He had always found it marvelous to watch, but his aim and strength of the bow were definitely not his talent.

Artemis handed King Perseus her arrow. It felt light like air and as unbreakable as the bonds of iron and steel. She held out her own bow to the young king. The bow, itself, was a beautiful piece of weaponry. It was the same rose-wood as the arrow, but it shined brightly like moonlight. He gently ran his fingers across the long piece of wood.

"Dear Artemis, I have no strength of the arrow. Is there anything you could offer me? To, perhaps, aid my unguided hand?" The goddess smiled lightly.

"Believe in the target." Perseus furrowed his brow. What kind of aid was that?

"My goddess… W-what exactly does that mean?" Artemis's laugh echoed off the empty walls of the cavern.

"It simply means what it is, Perseus. Believe in your target. It will not move or break. It will not fool you or perceive you. It is your aim of yourself. It can either come to you, or be pushed away. But, if you chose to believe in it, you will succeed." She gave him a bright smile. "You have proved yourself worthy many a time, Perseus, why stop now?" She raised an eyebrow with a sly smile on her face.

The goddess's words gradually sunk in. Perseus knew what she was speaking of. In a way, it was as easy as writing one's own name, but as difficult and tedious as moving a mountain. The son of Poseidon took up the bow and adjusted the cloth string that hung between the two pieces of wood. He looked up at the long rock that hung high above him. _You are the chosen one… Believe in the target, Perseus… You almost have to have love in your heart to succeed… _Thoughts circled around his head as he focused on the rock. He took aim at the rock, and as he did a beautiful voice whispered into his mind. _I love you, Percy. _It was Annabeth. Her love gave him power. It became so clear at that moment; it was she who gave him power. It was she, who gave him the light in the darkness. It was all her doing to make him live. It was in her quiet, sweet ways that he carried on.

In one single, quick shot, the great King shot the arrow right in the center of the unreachable rock. He turned to the goddess who gave him a knowing smile. "My lady, I thank you once more for the honor." He handed her back her precious bow.

"I knew you would succeed. You only have eleven and twelve left, young king. I wish you good luck on your hunt, Perseus. I have a feeling; you will go way past the average mark." She gave him one last smile before she leaped up onto the giant wolf, and then ran off into a distant corner of the cave.

So, it had been luck that had been with him. It had been Annabeth, his ever beautiful and brilliant queen. He smiled to himself. One more god and he would be home to her. Besides, how difficult could they be? Almost as if by answer, the walls of the cavern broke. The large rock walls came crumbling down to the ground like some forgotten empire. As the cavern fell away, Perseus realized he stood upon a large, grassy hill. Below him lay Argos, his home and beloved kingdom. He looked to the young woman that sat upon a boulder. She had long, curly hair that was braided tightly to her back. A strong intelligent, power circled in her eyes and a terrible premonition settled in the King's stomach as he watched her.

As the last goddess turned to face him, the last slip of victory and hope slipped away. Her defined, grey eyes were as fierce as her daughter's and her unavoidable gaze made the strongest man shiver. She could strike fear into the greatest of all gladiators, for her stature and purposeful walk made her queen of all lands. She was Athena, goddess of Wisdom.

"King Perseus of the House of Jackson, you have passed all the sister tests of my family. What you thought was difficult then shall not even begin to surmount my own test. If you should think you should succeed, you will not. If you succeed, it is because I allowed you to pass." Her hands clasped behind her back and she began to walk in a circle around him. "You do have a soldier's form and your heart beats wildly. Why do you fear me?" She asked with a hint of a smile.

Fear seemed to breathe heavily down onto the King's spine. "Queen Athena, good and righteous woman, I fear you because you are my last goddess. You are my last barrier blocking me from home. I only ask to pass and see my family. If I lose to you, I will in fact never return home to see my family." Athena drew her face into a smirk.

"To see my daughter." Her words were not raised nor accusatory, but they carried warning and a deathly threat. But Perseus, young and noble as he was, stepped defiantly to her.

"Yes, my lady queen, to see your beautiful, bold daughter. Whom I have loved since I first became of age. I love her with every being in my soul; with everything that I am worth I love her! And, my lady, I would understand if you struck me down at your feet now, but I will not rest till she is in my arms once more."

Both words of ignorance and defiance tumbled from the King's tongue, but the goddess of wisdom didn't seem offended, only amused.

"You truly love the lass, do you, young and arrogant king?"

"Everything inside of me does, lady Athena." Athena looked up towards the sky, sighing deeply. Her grey eyes closed slowly and then reopened again.

"My test will not face you here." She spoke softly. Perseus's eyes widened. His heart beat joyfully as rising hope resurfaced in his abdomen.

"Oh, sweet and prosperous queen, do not fool me; do you play me?" She met his eyes.

"King Perseus, I do not play nor do I jest. I simply tell. My test will come eventually, good man, but not now. The test of my choosing will decide your fate, but for now and your young kingdom, you are free." Athena stated simply, but in her simplicity an unattainable happiness blasted through the King's heart. His breath caught in his throat and life came to a stood still.

"My lady, thank you! With all the great praises on Earth! Thank you! Thank you, dear sweet queen!" He wept and kissed the hem of her dress furiously. Athena scowled and pulled the chemise away from his hands.

"Do not lose your composure, soldier!" she snapped harshly. Her face twisted into a fierce and foreboding glare. "Kings do not weep at any one's feet, even the gods'. Hold yourself to higher standard, man!" She grunted and stood tall. "Now you may see my daughter, Perseus. I give you permission to speak with her, once more." She smiled mischievously and pulled the hem of her dress up, walking down the hill. Perseus watched after her with joyful eyes full of perfect harmony. He knew what he must do.

**Annabeth **

Emery screams pierced the night. Annabeth sat up next to Nico, who still remained in a deep-set slumber. She smiled at him and touched her husband's strong jaw tenderly, before rising to go get the babe. Annabeth realized with a sudden agonizing stab that it had been one year since the victory over the Urations…a year since the death of the greatest King Greece had ever known. Emery had been born rather smoothly, a horrible, painful night it was, but a beautiful son with the King's wide green eyes had came from her own flesh. _His _own flesh.

The babe was beautiful. He had a full head of golden curls with the widest eyes that seemed to peer up at the world with wonder and awe. But he always cried. His screams always sorrowful and sullen like he was eternally mourning, but Annabeth worried he was always in pain. Lia had reassured her that was never the babe's case, but only longing for his mother. He did always seem to be more reserved and pacified when Annabeth was with him, but the child was only months old. How could he know the difference between a maid and his mother?

"Oh, sweet Emery, you would have adored your father." she cried. She rubbed gently in methodic circles around the child's head. The babe ceased to cry and began to suckle on his mother's breast. Annabeth winced at the sting of his gums against her, but relaxed soon enough. Her eyes moved across the darkened room and felt a shiver run down her spine. Something would happen today. Something that her intuition told her would be colossal.


	5. The Return of the King

**A/N: So I want to do a annual little survey, see how you guys are liking the chapters. I get a lot of reviews that tell me to UPDATE! :D Which is good, but I want to know what you guys think! So when your finished answer the questions below, I'm really interested to know what you guys think, even if you didn't like the chappy! **

**Annabeth **

A blood-streaked sunrise evoked itself over the sky. It flowed across distant cities and nations, but in Greece it symbolized the blood of the men lost in the Uration Crusades. Every war, it seemed almost fate-like, had been fought over the course of three days. Through the centuries, the Urations had always declared war on the day after the last. It had been a fluke with the Fates, but most only thought of it as a heavenly coincidence.

As the rosy-fingered Dawn forked itself across the sky, the child named Emery laid upon his mother's chest, sleeping peacefully. A prophecy of greatness had been written for that very child, just as his father had received one at the same month and date as him. The two children were linked, but that would not surface till the child's elder years.

Annabeth opened her eyes to a glassy world. Nico's strong, bronze arms intertwined around her and Emery. The only thing that kept her grounded now was him and the new babe. If they had not gotten their grasps on her, she would sink a knife into the very skin of her heart. There was no point to life with Perseus missing from it. He was the water in the dried well of her heart and he was gone now. The well had run dry a year ago.

Nico opened his eyes to look at her. Her long, golden curls tossed wildly around her head almost in perfect comparability to that of an angel's halo. She was beautiful in every way to the man. After Perseus's death, their marriage had grown closer. They both had lost a friend and king. Even though her love and kisses belonged to the king of Crete, her heart longed for the strong arms of the High King. She could not, after a year, accept that he was gone for eternity. He had been the greatest king of the land for three years. His reign had been too short, his feats too large.

As the sun rose, the kingdom awoke and set to work at their normal activities. High King Charles, although greatly wounded from the Uration War, had made a full recovery. His heart was bitter and compressed though, since the death of his dear friend and brother. He was expected to host the first memorial feast for King Perseus. King Charles refused to see anyone, though. For he was not the same joyful hearted man that the kingdom had once knew. He was vulgar and broody, and suffered with an anguished heart. He had no love for the glorious day or the courage of the fight, but only hate and soured views. The feast that was expected to be in celebration would still be hosted, indeed, but the man who was ruling the nation, now that was the true question of tonight.

Annabeth gave Emery to Lia, as the young maids that served her, dressed her in her finest dress. The fabric was pure lace, but dyed as pale-rose. It clung to the gentle curves of her body, pushing her breasts a little further upward than any of her others. Though she usually hated the appearance of this dress, today it seemed to bend to her interest. She grasped onto the edge of her armoire as Lila, one the youngest of her maids, tied the strings behind her dress tightly.

"Scarlet, will you go tell the stable boys to get a carriage ready, Nico and I have to set sail in the next hour or so." She ran her hands down her hips, feeling for any wrinkles, and found none. Scarlet smiled kindly at the queen, gave a pretty curtsey and ran from the room. Annabeth watched the vineyards from her window as the sun rose, casting soft light over the tangled vines and heavy fruit. The slaves ran through the long, fertile fields plucking the large, plump fruit.

She looked thoughtfully at the distant sea line. Grover and his new found partner, Luke Castellan, were still with her at her father's palace. Grover still refused to speak to her as open as he once did. Annabeth had exhausted every option of opening him once more up to her, but he denied every attempt. The queen felt lost and empty when she was around him. He made her well up with a vacant and deep, lonely feeling so vast she missed the years of her girlhood.

Everything seemed to be greyed around the edges since Perseus died. The sun didn't seem to shine its rays as brightly, the ocean didn't look as green or, perhaps, her mind didn't find the brilliance in books or war anymore. She was losing her own self within her grief, and there was nothing she could do to save herself.

**High King Charles **

"I tell you, King Perseus would not have assented to this idea, Regus, therefore I decline it." Regus, son of the late king of Larissa, glared at Charles with cold eyes. He hated the new government his father had left him to, this type of democracy that King Perseus had left the nation in was not his wish. He wanted an empire under his rule and Perseus, if he was here, could have silenced the young boy within seconds. He had a talent for that, but Charles was weak with young men, for he, himself, was still young.

"Behold, I am the clay of your hands, my mighty lord. May it be done according to your word." Tension settled around the round room as Regus took his seat. He studied the table's design, obviously not wanting to look into King Charles eyes.

How the gods had been so unfair to the Uration War veteran. He had come home to a grieving nation, two warring women and a corrupt ideal that _he _had a hand in the High King's death. He didn't want the beautiful women that offered to be his queen; he did not wish to take a maid to bed with him, nor did he want to rule this great nation. He only had wanted to say farewell to his dear brother.

A small tear slipped from the king's eye, he let it scuttle down his cheek and splash against the cherry wood table top. He got up from his main chair. As another topic was brought from the table, he looked out the tall arched windows to the great ocean below. It was rapid and untamed, so like the anger and spirit of the High King. It was almost as if Poseidon mourned still for the loss of his son. Had it truly been one whole year since the death of his friend? Had time folded in on itself and made it drip like water from a well? Fast and steady for decades until finally it drops dry with nothing left.

When Charles had arrived home to Argos, Silena had been hesitant to burn the King. She had insisted on holding him in Poseidon's shrine for a moon cycle, but when many cycles came and passed she gave up hope it seemed and consented to burning the King's body. She had left Argos with tears streaming from her eyes and a lifeless step in her walk. Thalia had hung up her bow and refused to even speak with anyone. Her own words were angry and her heart still mourned for the greatest King of all time. His own heart wept at the King's decease.

He looked across the great blue ocean to the distant outline of Crete. Nico had arrived home well and found Queen Annabeth had given him a beautiful son. His name Emery, meaning strength, was said to have his mother's beautiful bright mind. He was almost half a year already it seemed. Charles had been so dysfunctional without Perseus; he had not even been to see Annabeth. She must have cracked in half when word of her lord's death reached her. The king knew she would have needed comfort and consolation, but he had only wanted to be alone for the first months of his reign.

"King Charles there's a man here, he wishes to speak with your audience." Charles turned to see the courier standing before him. He nodded to the young boy.

"Yes, I will see him after the meeting has ended." He gestured for his nobles to continue. The men nodded and returned to their petty problems. The boy nodded, bowed to the king and ran from the room. Charles sighed and rubbed his temples, trying to find some sort of peace from a little piece inside of himself, but he could find no solace. He returned to his seat and refocused his attention to his subjects.

"Argos, as lovely as it is, should not be the High Kingdom's stature and example. We are a dignified race, and Argos is a city that only reminds the people of King Perseus." Regus stated.

"I say the Kingdom's capital be moved to a powerful city like Athens, it suits the country well. It's powerful military and state is vast and wealth almost feeds through the city. We could build a new palace for you, King Aeron, but I believe that the castle you serve in would do great justice for the new High Kingdom." King Aeron swallowed and looked down. King Aeron never asserted much in these meetings, but he had attended usually only for the sake of King Perseus, but now the great King was gone.

Anger rose up through the pit of the stomach of King Charles. His blood boiled with hate at these fools words and blank ideals. "Do you forget who the man that ruled us was?" The king growled with hateful eyes. The men were silenced by the fierce venom in Charles' voice. "That man," he pointed to the wide and authentic picture of King Perseus above the table, "whom sent you from your sins and breathed life into our poor nation, was born in this city! His family built this city with their sweat and blood, my dear brother…" He broke off of his words with tears in his throat. "He created your wealth and freedom; your sons will honor one another for what he did. A-and you would request to rebuild _his _city somewhere else? I decline that! I refuse to move any part of him to Athens, or any city for that matter." Charles' dark eyes narrowed to deadly slits, "If you, so help me gods, even have a singular thought of de-creating the King's city, I will kill you all." His words were laced with a hatred so fierce it could have made the wildest warrior tremble. The court room fell silent and brave, but young Cornelius spoke up about the economy. Charles only seemed mildly interested.

"My lord, the man insists that this is a matter of the utmost importance." The page reappeared with a look of annoyance briefly across his face. Charles slammed his powerful fist against the table top. The kings quieted and looked at him with frightened eyes.

"What lowly peasant disturbs me during trial?" He demanded of the page. The young boy trembled at his harsh tone of voice.

"I d-d-don't know, my lord." He whispered. Charles growled and pushed past the page and walked like fire through the palace. His green cape rippled out behind him like the surface of a lake. He reached the room where the man stood in.

"What is the name of this! You come into my home demanding an audience with the king? Who are you? What social rank do you of yourself to come to me and wish to personally speak? I am the High King of Greece and I _command _you to answer to me!"

The man stood with a raggedy and torn cloak around his head. His back was the king when Charles released his anger onto him. But the man did not even seem to flinch, for his demeanor almost radiated something so familiar and peaceful… Charles furrowed his brow when the man spoke.

"You have changed, Charles. Why?" His voice was soft and quiet, but it almost held power and authority in it. He knew that voice. Where had he heard it?

"I-I don't what you mean. Who are you?"

"I was much like you, Charles. I used to be a rank of authority, just as you are now, but I had always welcomed everyone into my home. No matter who they were. A child of the meekest peasant was allowed into my house. Charles, have you forgotten who you served? The very man you called, "brother."" His voice seemed to smile.

"I do not know why you say these things, because I do not know you. Who are you?! For the last time!" He tried to use the anger in his voice to mask his insecurity, but it seemed the man saw right through him.

"You are still young, Charles. You do not wish to be king, nor do you want to be on the streets with whores. You just want someone to understand, don't you?" Charles felt emotion swell in his chest. Every word the man spoke of was true.

"Yes…" He closed his eyes. "Surely, good sir, you know of great High King Perseus, if you do not you are poorly informed. He was my dearest companion and now he is gone forever. I am forced to rule this nation by my own self because he has left me his kingship. I have naught an idea as to what I am supposed to do, but I only want to lay with the woman I love and give her children… I do not want this anger that swells inside of me so immensely I cannot control it. I do not want these trials and tribulations I must attend to, I must be nonbiased and fair, but how I can be when the woman in the trial is my mother's dearest friend? I am not made for kingship!" He sobbed. "Oh, almighty Zeus knows I mourn for my lord!" He sunk to his knees and pushed his face into his hands.

"Why must he leave so soon? Why did my dearest friend leave me?" He broke into tears of deep sadness. The man lowered himself before the king.

"I know of the King more than you would know, Charles. Perhaps he is with you." Charles looked up at the man. Two sea, green eyes peered from beneath the ratty cloak. "But I always told you, Charles, my dear friend you must welcome every king and peasant into our home!" He smiled at the grieving king.

Charles' mouth opened widely as he cried with a joyful yelp. "Oh! Heaven, please do not play tricks on my poor mind, please tell me my brother has returned!" The man pulled his ratty cloak from his face. The green eyes of the sea shined brightly with joy and love. His powerful jaw was filled with a beard and his hair tousled as if he had been through hell and heaven and back.

"Your lord has returned, my dear brother. Charlie, I have missed you so!" He opened his arms and the two men embraced. Charles still awestruck with his friend being back, he pulled away at the warmth and flesh of the King.

"M-my lord, you were dead." The King smiled at him with great joy.

"The gods gave a few dozen tests, I passed and I came back to you." King Charles' jaw opened widely.

"You passed t-tests of the gods? You are the chosen one of the prophecy? My lord, I knew you were destined for greatness, but you have lived through the Twelve Tests of the Olympians? Only the true champion would live… You are the true King…" He fell to his knees and kissed King Perseus's boots.

"Charles, I am the same as you, I am your brother and friend. The Kingdom is at peace once more, my friend." He smiled and the world seemed to settle. The Earth breathed once more and the sun came through the ever over casted clouds. "I'm home, Charlie." He smiled with tears in his green eyes.

Charles shook his head with a merry smile on his face. "Oh, sweet brother!" He embraced him once more. He backed from the King's powerful arms, and turned towards the young boy standing by the entrance of the Great Hall with a stunned expression. "Good man! Your King has returned! Run! Tell the others! Let every man hear, your prodigal King has come back!" He shouted with joy till his cried echoed from the highest ceiling.

**A/N: So here are the questions: **

**-Have I bettered my writing? **

**-Is this a type of story that you usually hate, or like? **

**-Do you prefer Percabeth or Perachel? (later to come… :D) **

**-What character do you want to hear more of, Annabeth or Percy? **

**Thanks guys! Love you all and keep my favs and alerts comin'! **

**Words are My Life, **

**F.H. **


	6. Beginning of the Fall of Love

**A/N: I'M SO FREAKING SORRY GUYS! :/ Life is butthead that makes me not update. If there is ever a time when you think I have abandoned my story, I haven't life just gets in the way of writing. So here is that much expected reunion you all have been waiting for;) **

**Words are My Life, **

**Felicity Hartington **

**Perseus **

Upon the King's miraculous return, the High Kingdom was rejoicing. The heavens sang with glorious psalms and praises, while the people leapt at the King's feet. King Charles gladly reconciled his crown to the true King. There was no happiness like the one that spread across the vast kingdom, and no hopeful people like the people of Greece. News of the High King's feats of the twelve labors of the gods, spread as fast as Hermes' messages, but the greatest of all was that the King sought forth for new ideas and better domesticated and foreign policies. He wanted to restructure the economy with an idea that had been given to him by Hestia herself. The new age was a new piece of the Golden Era under King Perseus.

A feast in honor of the King was to be held on the night of his twentieth birthday. He was still one of the youngest kings in all of Greece, but his feats were something that could not have been accomplished for any normal king under a century-long period. In the nobility of the King, the feast was to be grand and extravagant. Queen Regina of Sparta was attending, many women thought the High King sought for a bride, but many did not know that the High King's heart was already caught. It was already embraced with full love for a simple, yet gorgeous queen.

The celebration and banquet were both held in the grand ballroom of the Argonian Palace. The great arched, cathedral-like ceilings were lit with grand candle balls. While beautiful small teacup warm, bright fire swarmed overhead as if by magic. The tables were decorated with such beauty and precision. With turquoise, velvet tablecloths were dangling over the table like rivers and beautiful crystal-cut vases overflowing with hand-grown ivory colored roses. The finest food and china were set amongst the room with a polite pattern. Though everything glimmered with beauty, none of the beautiful decorations were as low and lovely as the gowns and suits the men and women wore.

Queens and kings from far off lands accompanied the King's people in celebration. From the eastern lands the women wore Celtic-made petticoats. Their shawls hinted, from the thick goat wool, that they were rich and wealthy. The Arabic women wore beautiful silk, dresses that danced around their ankles when they walked. The men wore their finest suits and breeches. It was quite lovely to see the rainbow of pigments that danced across the room.

Finally, when the clock had struck ten o'clock a great bong from the grandfather clock announced that the feast would begin shortly. There was a great fuss as everyone rushed to go see the King. To touch his fine coat and clutch his long, course hair. The man that appeared on the stairs was not the King they had seen many moons ago. The old King Perseus had been boisterous and upright of the Kingdom's decisions; this Perseus was meek but solemn. His quiet authority was enough to silence every voice in the room. The one thing that remained of their king was the burning green eyes. Those that flamed almost instantly like a pit of Greek fire.

Charles, well-past drunk at this hour, sauntered over to his friend and raised a goblet of wine. "To the King! To the Kingdom! To our gods!" He slurred through his teeth. The silenced crowd felt joy open up through them and cheers from every part of the room were released in the air.

King Perseus had tears in his eyes as he stepped to his throne chair. The simple golden ringlet of High Kingship sat on top of his long, dark hair. "I have traveled through the gates of hell to reach back to you. I have fought the wickedest foes on the external cover of the Earth. I have been tortured to the point of insanity to find your light. I have gone through the pain and suffering to find you. I have ever-loved you from the second of my death to now. I have returned to repay your love you have given unto your king, back to my people."

He swung his arm around Charles' neck and raised his own silver grail to the crowds. "I will forever be your king, my beloved friends. Till the end of time, my love shall be as fervent as steel to you!" he cried. The many royally dressed visitors cried out to their beloved King. The once and eternal King as he was called had finally returned.

As the son of Poseidon finished speaking his words, the crowd dispersed. Many came up to King questioning his journey to death's doors and back. But Perseus remained silent on what had occurred below the Earth. He would forever hold that to himself. Prince Charles was said to even not to have been briefed on the legend. King Perseus would have loved to held council with his people all night, but the shimmer of a gown caught his eye.

_May the gods hold me to my righteousness and let me touch the angel's skin. _He prayed as he studied the woman weaving through the numerous people. She was just as he had remembered, but if at all possible, more exquisitely beautiful. His heart seemed to tear from his very skin, trying to meet her own. His thoughts all turned to an unorganized, mess but one clear-cut thought was raised. Her incredibly beautiful name was almost a taste on his tongue. The King could feel every fiber in his very being cry out to her. She remained turned from him, but her strong shoulders held high showing she showed no care for him at the moment.

"Sweet heaven, give me strength, for the hour of my utter existence is at hand," he muttered to himself as he stepped towards her. He could almost hear every breath raised from his chest. It was labored and deep, but he managed to pace normally. His eyes sought for the ones that had haunted every thought of him, every dream, and every single breath… Those eyes did not seek his, but only looked to Nico. His heart warmed only little towards his dear friend. For at the moment, he did not think of anything else on the face of the Earth, but this one woman. For she _was _his only and entire thought.

Only as if by chance, she turned her head. Her long, golden curls that cascaded down her back turned with her. Her delicate, yet fierce meaningful features defined her as the strong-willed woman Perseus knew her to be. Then her eyes met his.

It is said that dreams do not ever become reality, but for the King, the one thing he had dreamed for over a year was now looking directly at him. Her untamable, furious grey eyes pierced into his soul like knives. They were cynical and challenging, but he didn't want them to be gentle or sweet. Perseus felt his breath catch in his throat and there was a moment where the world did not exist. There was only her. With a cry uttered from her lips like that of a child, she rushed to him. Perseus did stop her, but picked up his own legs and ran to her.

In that moment, it was as time slowed. Like the whole world had come to a complete stop with no revolution, but had stopped turning in the slow course it followed. It was as if eternity was leaping onward without a chance to grab it back. Perseus could not get his feet to move fast enough, but finally, in all of the pain and suffering he had faced, she was in his arms. Her sobs were muffled through his own. Tears swelled in his eyes as his heart beat once more. Life was brought back into his empty soul. In missing her, it had seemed like the ache of it had hardened and sharpened itself and stabbed harsh wounds into his heart. They healed.

"Perseus…" She sobbed against him. Her legs had seemingly turned to paste as she completely was held against him only by his arm. He had the burden of barely staying upright as well.

"Death is only a barrier from keeping me from you, my love." He whispered into her heart shaped ear. Her ear was even beautiful, as if half a heart was cut down the middle and split between her head.

"You are as the prophets say the once and eternal King, my lord." She raised her head from beneath his collar bone and her lips hung limp as if they begged for his own to press against hers. One thing stopped the King from drinking in her raging fire and ember; his people stared questioningly at him with puzzled looks. He realized that Annabeth was not his, but belonged, as if she was property, to King Nico. He released her painfully and turned to see Nico smile at Perseus. His dear friend stepped hastily up to the King and embraced him.

"Oh, my dear friend, it truly is you." He laughed and raised his goblet to him. It was not difficult to see the harsh, painful light that had been washed into Nico's eyes. He must have hated the King at that moment.

"It is I, your friend, Nico." _Not the man that has stolen your wife's heart, but the man you once valued. _Perseus thought to himself as he gave Nico a soldier's embrace. Nico's eyes were torn. The king of Crete yearned to call Perseus his friend, but he could not. The other light in his eyes gave way to the husband of sweet Annabeth. This woman he loved more than the kingdom in which he ruled. He would have sacrificed everything for her, and the King had come to tease her away from him once more.

"It is a joyous time to receive you, my lord," Nico said with an icy twist on his tongue. His dark eyes were quiet, but they burned one single word into the King's own. _Hate. _The black, venomous word was the father of every end to every country. It was the word that instigated civil war. Perseus could never let it happen. He would sacrifice his own heart for his people, if this meant giving Annabeth to Nico for eternity, he would do so.

"My lord Nico, would you please accompany me on a walk through the palace garden? There are affairs that must be discussed amongst the two of us." The King did not ask the question, he demanded it. He left no argument for Nico to answer to, and turned on his boot's heel and walked along the crowds to the darkened palace garden.

Even with the darkness covering the trees, newly bloomed flowers, and bushes. The moon fiercely shined a silvery light across the garden. It seemed to be doused with the liquid, silver and created a pathway for King Perseus to walk along. The smell of roses wafted from the beautiful blooms, filling the garden with the sweet smell of the plant. A night tree, a gift from the goddess Demeter, bloomed in the middle of the garden. The golden blooms only opened at night, but their blossom was the size of the King's palm. A small fountain, depicting Poseidon holding a rearing horse in one hand and a ship in the other, gurgled softly within the sweet-smelling brush. A large iron gate with ivy growing up the side and around the large gate bars, looked onto the ocean. Perseus could feel the brisk, sea wind against his face and hair as he sat down on the stone bench. He could hear Nico's silent footsteps through the garden, but chose to not move and stay seated.

"Nico, why do you look at me as I look at my enemies?" Perseus got up and clasped his hands behind his back and turned himself away from Nico. He stared up at the towering palace in front of him as the sounds of laughter and music carried away from the ballroom.

"Perhaps the answer lies within the fact that you hid from your people, you feigned your death with the help of that witch, Silena, and mendaciously returned from death. Then you claim you waltz into my wife's arms, as if you…you _love _her. My lord, I do not mean to disrespect you, but you can no longer hold that attitude towards her. I'm sorry, Perseus. She is my wife, and I refuse to allow you to give her your love no longer…at least express it." He stood defiantly to the King. His black eyes shimmered ominously and gave warning.

"Nico, that is why I have called upon you, but before we deal with the matter of Annabeth, you must understand I would not lie to you, my friend. That is the thing that I would rather take my sword to my heart than tell a falsehood. I am not to be untruthful, am I, my lord?" He questioned the young king. Nico seemed to realize what the King said was very true. Perseus was honest and that was the reason why he wore the golden ringlet around his noble head.

"My dear King, I apologize so sincerely, but I love Queen Annabeth with all of my being. I cannot bring myself to surrender her to you once more, and it breaks me to see her look at you the way she shall never look at my own face." He ran a hand through his untamed black curls.

"I understand, Nico. I-I…" Perseus' heart refused to let him speak the words he wished to speak. "I," he swallowed heavily, "I will not give her my love no longer, Nico. In fact, I'm marrying another woman in due time." Nico sighed and thanked the gods for the King's reprieve to him.

"May I ask who, my lord?"

"Princess Regina of Sparta." His words cut through the night sharply. It seemed to tear through the thick night air like the Sword of the High King. Somewhere in the darkness a sob erupted. Perseus turned to see a flash of golden hair shimmer in the moonlight before disappearing back into the ballroom. Annabeth had heard his denouncement of her… She knew it all now.


	7. Farewell

**A/N: Happy belated Thanksgiving everybody! Some of you wanted to see more of Annabeth's POV so this is all in her words, thanks for my favs/alerts/reviews! **** -F.H **

**Annabeth **

Like hot fire burning the very skin off of her flesh, that was what Annabeth's heart felt like. It was like hydra acid peeled off ever layer of muscle, bone, and tendon, but she still managed to stay upright. His words echoed fresh in her mind. _"I'm marrying another woman…" _They ran around her mind as if they were a sick children's rhyme that she would never forget. As if she wasn't in pain enough; Perseus had not even kissed her yet and her lips longed for his against hers. It now would never happen again. He had declared his denouncement of her, and she should have accepted it because he was the High King and his word was law. The fire in her heart refused to let her go on unvoiced in this decision of her.

Perseus walked into the ballroom with blood-shot eyes. He looked exhausted and as if the weight of world rested on his shoulders. He would carry her burden if she asked him to, because that was just the way Perseus functioned. He would take the heavy vices from his people and carry it himself because he loved them so. That thought made her falter from going onto a tirade. It made her want into sink to the floor and never return. Perseus loved his country so much, that he would give up the woman he loved more than life. She felt tears coming to her eyes like hot embers; she could not face him when he was only doing what was good for the country. She could see the pain inside of him, how this decision killed him as well as her.

Annabeth picked up her long silver dress and walked up the staircase to the balcony above. It looked out over the King's garden and gave a full view of the moon. She walked onto the great marble structure and put her hands out on the turquoise marble railing. Her fingers ran over the gold flecks in the stone, and each tear splashed like a lake against them. Her hope in raising Emery close to his real father was crushed and broken into thousands of pieces.

Footsteps sounded behind her like the very beating of her heart. It was the footfalls she had heard that had made her dream of better days with the man she loved. It was the powerful steps of the Lord King Perseus, the greatest warrior king to walk all of Greece. She turned and faced him, his eyes were full of pain and suffering.

"Annabeth, my love…" He whispered to her. The queen screamed and unleashed her anger onto him. She struck his strong chest with blows of all her fury. He took them like he deserved every furious shock of her hands. She threw herself against him trying to make him fall, but he stood fast and strong as he always did. He was her safeguard and he would never crumble. Instead, he took her shaking fists and pushed her fallen hair from her eyes.

"I-I… My lord, I am sorry." She felt horrible sobs break from her chest as she fell against him. She clung to him and allowed him to weave him arms around her. His strong muscles tightened around her, but she did not care that he felt like an anaconda around her waist. This was their farewell. The last and final of the two lost lovers. Perseus shook his head in her hair. His own tears meshed with hers as he pressed his face against Annabeth's. He pushed his lips with fiery demand against the queen's. She did not have a choice to reject him, but she could only grant it. His lips were the missing piece of her heart and filled her with joy up to her head. They were like the feeling of flying overhead of the highest mountains and reaching the greatest heights.

"Oh, my dearest eternal love, I love you so…" Perseus trailed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes tightly and pushed herself against him.

"My Perseus, why must you?" She begged with tears filling up behind her closed eyelids once more.

"The Kingdom longs for an heir, my sweet lady." He rested his head on top of her golden one.

"You have an heir… His name is Emery, his eyes shine with the brightness of youth. They are yours, my dear King. He is your son and he will take the Kingdom upon his shoulders and raise it to its highest maximum after you and I are long gone from this earth. Oh, my love, if only you could see him… You would fall in love with him the moment you laid your eyes on him." Annabeth's great grey eyes that could melt the King's heart met his.

"I promised that he was Nico's son, and that is what he shall be. The Kingdom does not know that he is mine, and that is how it shall stay." Perseus sounded broken inside. As if his life had been torn away from him-like that voice of a dying man…

"Do not deny it! He is your son! Your blood and flesh, and even your breath were given to him. You want to deny that you are his sire? You are not his family? Do NOT even try to push him off as if he is insignificant!" She yelled at him as she pushed him away.

"Annabeth, my sweet-ˮ

"No! You reject him; you are rejecting my last and final gift to you! Take your unrequited love some place elsewhere, because I do not wish to speak to you ever again… Y-You… I no longer love you, King Perseus of the House of Jackson." She sobbed with pain so great it could break the heart of the cruelest man.

"Annabeth, no! Please…" The King sobbed as he took her into his arms. "Don't lie to me… You know in all Heaven and Hell that I would never deny my son… He is of your flesh and your blood; therefore, I love him as if he were my child… He is not my son, though, my sweet woman. He is Nico's, and I shall never speak to him as a son, but as a fellow king of Greece." He pleaded with her. The King's heart was swelled to a maximum with love for his son. It was his blood that beat through his veins and his flesh that covered his body. He would die for the little babe that he had never met.

"I know what you speak is true, my sweet Percy." Annabeth placed her hand on his heart and listened to the steady beat within. He was so warm and secure, like the walls around the very Argonian palace they stood in. "Let us make a pact right at this moment in time, my King." The moonlight glimmered upon his black hair, it rippled across it like the surface of black, bottomless water.

"What is your pact, Annabeth?" He asked her name with a desperate tone. His eyes seemed to blind her own with their great, green shining light.

"Even in death we will return to one another, Perseus. You already have proved that you will make your way back to me, even when we are departed from this Earth. If you are to die, then I shall go with you and we will stand at the Gates of Elysium together. We shall always stay as one, my ever-gentle Perseus." The King was silent. His eyes gave no sign of indication he would confirm their agreement.

"You shall live unto the day that your soul leaves your body. If I am to leave my own, before you, you _will _live until your death day. You shall not cease until your heart stops beating on its own will. That is an order by your lord, the High King of Greece." His voice suddenly had become the soldier he was. It was the commander of Greece's army, and he was speaking to her in it.

Annabeth's heart thudded sadly in her chest. "Why? Life is not worth living if it does not contain the very ligament of my soul." She looked up at him with her morose grey eyes. "How does the heart beat if there is no blood? How does the man breathe if there is no air? How does the horse run if his limbs are lame?" Her eyes welled with a grief so deep that the strongest warrior would have crumbled at her gaze.

"Oh, pure dove, why do thy make thee falter under such gaze? I will not allow you to do it, Annabeth. Emery is the only thing that you must stay on this earthly realm for, if I shall die before you. You must live for our dear son," he said with love in his eyes.

"Please, Perseus… If you are dead, my heart has stopped beating. I am a walking corpse if you are not my lord." Perseus wiped away the diamond-like tear that fell from her eye. Its tiny liquid droplets running down his hand until it dropped to the marble floor, landing like a great splash. It shattered like the inside of her body, breaking apart into millions of little pieces. Lost into the dark oblivion. This world was not meant to live, if her dear Perseus did not walk it. Just his beating heart against her ear was enough to make her sing with radiant joy.

"Annabeth, I deny you the right to even touch a single dagger to your heart!" He released her. He sighed and pushed his hands through his course and beautiful hair. Annabeth wanted to touch his shoulders and relax his steeled muscles. She hung back in fear that his anger would be unleashed.

The sea breeze drifted off the calm ocean and onto the balcony. It ruffled through Perseus' hair and made his colonial shirt quiver open revealing part of his strong chest glimmer in the silver light of the moon. He was…stunning. His bronze skin shimmered like dull gold infused with silvery and his green eyes hid shadows of the deep ocean beneath them. The gold ringlet around his head the symbol of his power, he rarely wore that ringlet. He preferred not to ever show his power. Annabeth knew though that King Perseus did not need that crown to be known as _the _King.

"Annabeth…please, just leave me with my grievances," Perseus said with a slight quaver in his strong voice. The queen's heart tore into three different directions; each taking each a part of it and ripping it brutally and gorily so that each drop of blood within her body sunk to her feet. She almost collapsed sobbing there at her master's feet.

"This is farewell then, my King?" she asked with words laced with venom and choked with sorrow. King Perseus' eyes were welling with tears from what she could see of his face. A single tear dropped from his eye and into the turning ocean. Since his words, it had begun to turn violently and the water reached up onto the palace floodgates.

"Forever as lovers, my dear," he said with the sadness of a dying man. Annabeth unleashed a sob and ran from the balcony. The King was done with her. And she, the wise Queen of Crete, was finished with the one man that she had only ever loved.


	8. Rachel Elizabeth Dare

_ He stood at the edge of a broken bluff. A scream so desperate and pleading pierced the air of the desolate sky. The man fell to his knees, scars and dirt marred his body and face, but two great tears slid from his eyes that held like the sea. They seemed to scream of agony, his men tried to reach to him, but he only screamed out as they tried to touch him. His hands, which were cracked and bleeding, shook with such uncontrolled madness they seemed to never slow. The closest one to the king tried to reach for him with a single bare hand that hand had wielded the sword that had changed the very air that the man breathed. _

_ "Luke, please leave me. He is gone…" The words were grave, but held the authority that always radiated from him like a great flame. The blond man looked down at the king and turned with his boot's heel. He bit down onto his pale lip and looked back to the man. _

_ "Sir, please, I-ˮ _

_ "Lucas! In the name of your good father, _leave me!_" He cried from the abysmal pits of his soul. The agonizing cry was so commanding, yet hurt that it would have made the most cold-hearted man shrink to his knees to the king and beg pity for him. _

_ A young boy of the age of twelve, was under the long cloak of his father's. The rearing emerald horse shimmered bleakly in the dull light of the day. He had eyes that shined like the fire when it is dulling, a brown so soft that it looked to be the soft bark of a new born tree. Though the boy's eyes shimmered with gentleness of a lamb, his fist curled and he held his teeth clenched. He watched the king with great confusion, but all along his confusion was masked with a immense pain that burned in his eyes. His legs slunk out of the cloak at queer angles, and he laid propped up against a luxurious cushion. A single tear fell from his eye. _

_ "Father…" He whispered as a not so much as a plea, but sounded to be a prayer. The only voice that that despairing king seemed to hear was that of his son's. He looked up with his eyes burdened like that of an enslaved man, but his eyes swelled with love at the look of his son. _

"_Xavius, my sweet boy!" He cried. He rose from his weeping position that he sought on the rocky earth, and ran to his broken son. He cradled him in his strong arms as the boy and father sobbed into each other. Their tears blended into one large river that seemed to flow endlessly from their eyes._

**Lady Silena **

Charles had an arm securely wrapped around Silena's lean body, and she felt his strong bare chest against her own. She felt the vision spread across her like a hypnotic sensation that kept her from moving. She felt the spirit of the Oracle slink into her, breathe into her and send the rippling numbing effect. Her heart pounded when it ended. She sat up and rubbed her pale eyelids, looking down at Charles' sleeping form. She rose from the bed, pulling a thin cape around her naked body. She walked to the darkened balcony that extended to the dark forest of Delphi. She looked to the sky and closed her eyes.

"Dear Father Apollo, Lord of the music of the Earth, the father of the prophecy, in which I breathe, and the art of the sacred healing; hear my cry and answer me. If the vision that you have given me is to become, what does it mean for the Kingdom?" Silena asked quietly with her eyes still tenderly closed to the sky.

Moonlight gently caressed her face as she sat silently for hours. The rosy-fingered dawn was beginning to rise when a scream was released from the woman's body. It was so deafening and horrible that Charles leaped from his bed with a sword in his hand. He ran to the balcony and looked around.

"What is it, Silena?" He asked. His dark eyes searching everywhere for a sign of trouble of distress. Silena stood before him shivering and trembling with fear.

"It is the Beginning of the Fall, my dear Charles. The Fall of the Kingdom…I have seen it."

**Perseus **

"So, if your most mercifulness would see, I did not rape this woman! She is the dirty and filth-ridden one, my lord! She has refused to give me the truth since the day I gave my life to her; she is a liar and a thief!" The villager cried. Perseus watched intently with no expression towards the woman or the husband. He raised a hand to his face and furrowed his brow.

"Winceliss, when did you marry this 'whore', as you say?" The man surprised by the expression the King held, shook under his strong gaze and swallowed.

"It was three years ago, my dear King Perseus."

"So the girl was only of the age of eleven," Perseus said with a sharp twist on his tongue.

"Yes, b-but, my lord, she had a mind of her decisions. She's a twisted monster, another man has marked on her besides me! She should be condemned to death!" The King looked to a beautiful girl who trembled under his stare.

"Sweet child, to me," he said softly to her. The girl has shimmering green eyes, but they were soft and kind. Her pretty face was tender and soft, but her long rippling red locks came down to her waist. She was in rags that were much too small for her. A large, purple mark shaped in the form of a fist was scarred across her eye. The King smiled and touched her chin, but she flinched at his touch. "What is your name, beautiful maiden?" he asked with gentleness.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare, my lord." she said quietly. Her long lashes fell down upon her eyes like a thick waterfall.

"What has he done to you?" The King placed his hand on her cheek. Her pale cheeks were flushed from Perseus's touch. Her dark green eyes flashed almost painfully.

"He took my innocence, my lord… Then he withdrew, he said I was not adequate." Rachel's words quavered with fear and plain sadness. She looked so weak and malnourished, her shoulders were small and frail, and her cheeks, although very pretty, were extremely sunken and pale.

Like hot flames from an explosion, Perseus' anger reached the height of its capacity. "Winceliss, it is not the child who has committed these crimes, but you. I know it for the fact that this girl bears the traces of wounds, wounds that go deeper than her skin, but into her very soul. You have given her these blemishes and scars.

Then the poor child found love in another man, but you murdered him brutally. Did you not, Winceliss?" His voice did not raise, but the authority and dangerous tone echoed throughout the courtroom. It made the man flinch and he sunk to his knees, cowering before the King. "She was found with child, but you killed the babe when he was born. This gift of love that she found, you took from her, only because you feared your own pride would be harmed. _You _feared the prosecution of my father's priests, didn't you? _You _raped her of her pure child heart. And the worst reason of all, _you _tried to make a fool of the High King." He hissed though his clenched teeth.

A gasp escaped from young Rachel's delicate mouth, and the King's Companions' eyes widened. There was not a sound in the courtroom, but a soft cry of a bird from outside. "But I believe that you were not treated or loved such as Rachel, so I will let you live and walk, dear Winceliss." The man got a great smile on his face.

"Oh, thank you good and gracious, King." He wept at his feet and kissed them.

"I will banish you, instead," he said with no sign or solitary trace of emotion. There seemed to be not a single touch of feeling or sympathy in his powerful green eyes. There was only great supremacy. Winceliss' face morphed from joy to crumbled urgency.

"My King, please… I-I'd rather be murdered at the gallows." Perseus' eyes shimmered with thunderous rage.

"You will do as I command, servant," He stated calmly. "This is my will, may it be done." The King's body seemed to shine forth with a murderous vengeance as he looked at the man. He did not raise his voice, nor did he intend to threaten, but the King left no room for contentious protests. There was an air in the court room that seemed to his and curl at King Perseus' command. The slight wave of his hand would mean death for the lowly man.

"Very well, your royal honor. Your word is my only and true hope," Winceliss spoke with utter disdain. His tongue was near close to brandishing harsh words, when Thalia leaped from behind the King's chair and held a sword to his neck.

"Speak one word of impudence to the King, and you will thank the gods for the mercy they have bestowed upon you, to have you, a sickly man, be judged by the fair and just King." Her hair was lopped off once more; it hung only to the end of her lovely face. Though her long hair had given her the appearance of a wild warrior woman, her shortened locks curved around her face in such a way it could chill the bone. Her blue eyes flashed so quickly, they could have been mistaken for lightening.  
Winceliss shivered at her light, but deadly touch. "Yes, Lady Thalia." His brown eyes tried to search for pity within hers, but he found none under the cold, calculating gaze of Thalia.

"Bring your sword steady, commander, he does not wish to kill me. He only wishes the stumble and fall of the Kingdom. Is that right, Winceliss?" Perseus spoke. He searched the eyes of the banished man, hoping to see an ounce of repentance. There was not a single gleam. "Leave, Winceliss, but your dear wife is entitled to all of your housing and money and your property. If I hear from a sweep of wind that you ever return, Winceliss, I will lay siege upon you, and come after you until I kill you." His words were glazed over by warning and hatred.

Thalia shoved the hilt of her sword into his hip bone. "Move, you arrogant bumrag!" She hissed with a thick, venomous tone. The man muttered under his breath and followed her order. Thalia grabbed him harshly by his arm and dragged him out of the courtroom.

A sob erupted from the corner of the long-arched room. Perseus turned to see the beautiful, yet sorrowful Rachel kneeling in agony. The King walked three paces over to the child. She shivered as he got close to her. He knelt in front of her and took her hands away from her tear stained face. "Child, why do you mourn? Your burden has been removed, I swear to you it shall never return."

"I release my tears, my lord, because not one man, woman, or even lowly peasant has shown me the kindness that you have offered. My dear King, I am forever in your debt. I may not have a talent within my earnings, but I vow my King, that if illness or heart strain shall ever fall upon you, I shall be here in the shadows waiting to aid you. Forever, my lord, you have my word." Rachel's voice was clean and clear. Her green eyes seemed to seek the goodness in him. This search in her eyes he had only seen in one other woman-Queen Annabeth of Crete. She was the answer to his life and his reason. She was the one thing that held him to this brutal and unfair world.

With the thought of her, agony reached for his heart. He furrowed his brow and nodded. Trying to appear well to the girl, he stepped away and walked a short distance away. "Thank you, my dear. I hope that someday I shall meet you once more, but until then, I can only offer you the resources at my hands. Take whatever money you would like, my stables are open to your use, and if you wish, you may stay at the palace for a time." He vaguely paid mind to her answer. His own thoughts were directed towards another place and time, when two beautiful grey eyes had looked up at him. They had seemed to ask: _Why do you torture yourself, for I see only good? _

"My good lady, what did you say your name was?" Perseus asked. His mind wandered through a cloud of memories with Annabeth.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare, sir. My mother used to work as a lady for your mother, but she died when she gave birth to me." Rachel's tone saddened. "I am sincerely sorry, my lord. I will take my leave." The child picked up her skirts, about to take leave of the King.

"Rachel, do not leave until I have dismissed of you," King Perseus said suddenly. His eyes quite clear and he no longer appeared pensive. He looked at her with gentle eyes. "Who was your mother, sweet girl?"

"Malia Dare." Her tone shook slightly with fear. Perseus smiled at her and gently paced his fingers on her smooth arm.

"Fear not, my lady, for I shall not harm you. Though, I do recall Malia. She was good to my mother, and I remember her tapestries were beautiful."

Rachel's blush speckled across her cheeks. It made her pale skin turn to a delicate shade of pink, but it was not like Annabeth, in which her golden skin turned to a slow shade of rose. It was simply pink. "She always hoped the queen would adore them."

"They were well-loved. Tell me Rachel, were you forced into marriage with Winceliss?" His sudden change of topic seemed to spark the child's soul.

"No… When my father could no longer afford to pay the tax upon our home, Winceliss took me for his wife. I had not even begun to bleed yet when he made me lay with him…" She said with a deep and echoing sadness. "I have never experienced more pain at any second in my life. He made me cry out with the deepest wail of hurt, my King… I shall never heal."

King Perseus stepped to her and took her hand. "Child, do not fear any longer. You are safe, as long as I reign, you are safe." He gave her a reassuring smile. A guard walked into the room with a neutral face.

"My King, Princess Regina and the king have arrived." Perseus looked to the floor for a moment.

"Very well, Christopher, send them in," he said with an emotionless tone. "Now, Rachel, you may take your leave."


	9. The Sickness of Desire

**Annabeth **

"Lady Annabeth, the king requests your presence in the throne room." Feron, the young sailor who the queen had met on her voyage to Crete, was now a man with broad shoulders and a strong build. He had made the decision to serve under King Nico for a year in hopes of receiving a well put resume.

Annabeth looked up from Emery, who, at that moment, was nestled in her arms. "Very well, does my husband demand it in dire need?"

Feron shook his head and tapped on the hilt of his sword. "The king says you may come at your own time, since you are with the child." He bowed to her and went from the room. His boots tapped against the smooth floors as he moved gracefully across them. Annabeth looked down at her sweet son, and sought to look upon those great green eyes that beheld the greatness of his father. Emery smiled as he looked up at his mother with those grand eyes. They hurt her heart with the ragged agony like that of a sword that scrapes across the flesh. To even be reminded of Perseus was torture enough, but Emery, whose eyes looked at her with love and happiness. It was the same look the King had, at one time, given her.

"Oh, sweet golden son of mine. You shall raise this world upon your shoulders one day like Atlas himself. I promise you were made for greatness beyond definition. Beyond the barriers of any man…shall you go, and just as your father before you, you will rule this country, my dear boy." She touched his cheek and the sweet baby gurgled with delight. The queen felt tears form in her vision. He would be great; Annabeth knew it within her heart.

After Emery had fallen asleep in his mother's arms, Annabeth laid him gently down in his cradle and turned from the room. She walked down the wooden spiral staircase to the bottom floor of the palace where King Nico's throne room sat. It looked out to vineyards and to the distant sea. The throne room was built onto the rocky cliff that overlooked the sea. It had wide open arches which circled around the room and exposed the elaborate throne to the sun and the sea air outside. The light atmosphere was odd for such a man as Nico, a brooding son of Hades, the god of Death.

Upon entering, Annabeth met her king's eyes and fell to the ground before him. "Rise, my dove." Annabeth looked up Nico and picked her legs up. She stood unshaken by his overbearing dark gaze.

"My lord?" Her grey eyes met his own.

"I have a friend of your father's, who claims he met you while you were in Athens. He is a merchant and lover of the sea, but I'm sure you two would get along. I ask you, wife, to attend to him and give him the area tour of the palace and grounds." Nico's hand rested on a long, spindly scepter that was crowned with a great black diamond. Silver skulls swerved in a complex circle pattern around the gem. It was new. Annabeth narrowed her eyes at her husband's new scepter.

"Of course, my lord, though who has given you that beautiful scepter you hold?" She tentatively asked him.  
"The very man I wish for you to speak to, Luke Castellan, son of Hermes and captain of the _Neptune._" King Nico gestured to a man who entered. "Speak of Hades, look it is the man himself." He laughed and raised his scepter to him.

Footsteps drew close to the throne and the queen. Annabeth turned around to look at the man that her husband had seemingly come to adore. It was the man she had met what seemed years ago. The sea merchant had been charming and tawny from the sea, but above all his eyes had seen more than his age, it had seemed. They were old, but the man had been young.  
Luke bowed to the king first and kissed the great black ring on his finger. He turned to Annabeth and gave her a smile. He was devastatingly handsome as it would seem to her, and she couldn't help but blush as his attention came upon her. He raised her hand and kissed the soft skin, meeting her eyes with his warm brown ones.

"My lady queen, Annabeth, I am honored to be in your presence. It was a lovely pleasure meeting you at your father's palace a year ago to this spring." The captain took off his three-pointed hat and bowed to her once more. He gave her hand one more gentle squeeze before turning back to King Nico.

"Stay with my wife for the day, if you are to stay here, you must know what goes on. The profit of our small island depends on your ships and water roots; Annabeth is quite wise with this particular area. Please, explain to her all that you have told me." Nico smiled lightly at Annabeth as he spoke. The queen's heart filled with love and admiration at her husband. She turned back to Luke.  
"Shall we then?" Luke asked the queen.

"Of course," she grasped his offered arm. The two walked out of the throne room as another messenger came in. The man was covered in travel dust and smelled of the sea. Annabeth was about to pay no mind, but his words that she unintentionally heard, stabbed at her like a hot fork from the newborn flames.

"King Nico, my lord, the High King has just announced his new bride. The High Queen is to be Princess Regina of Sparta. Perseus asked that you attend the wedding which has been set in the beginning of summer." Annabeth's breath escaped her lungs. She felt herself collapse upon the throne room floor. Her legs no longer wished to walk or to run or to carry her. She was finished without the true, pure purpose of her life. There was no use for her heart or thoughts in the King was no longer hers.

"Annabeth!" Nico cried. He pushed past the envoy and leaped to his wife's side. "My love, speak! Show me you fair well." Emotion chipped into his voice like a hammer. He scooped her weak and useless body into his powerful arms.

"Nico, my sky has been turned to ash.," she whispered lifelessly. The king stood up to his full height. He left the throne room immediately thereafter. His eyes turned thunderous and heartbreak sang loud from their dark depths. The sea merchant watched after Nico as his long black cape billowed out behind him like the sheer hate that shined from him.

**Perseus **

"So you will accept my offer then, my lord?" Perseus asked to King Reagus. The young King smiled to the older one, as he leaned carelessly upon the throne chair. His fingers traced the intricate pattern of the King's chair.

"King Perseus, it would be a great and gracious honor for you to take the girl as your wife." He waved his hand subjectively at Regina. "She is yours, but by your word." Perseus smiled slightly, but inside his heart bled a hundred million tears. He knelt to the ground and before Regina's chair. Her liquid black hair was elegantly pinned on top of her head. Sleek curls fell around her face in a swooped pattern. Her clear, colorless eyes smiled with triumphant as if she knew he was to kill himself.

The King had battled death in the face, bled to the point of delirium and insanity, killed the very man who had raped his love, and fought the twelve gods of Olympus. But the following sentence he spoke to Regina was the hardest trial the King had ever faced in his young life.

"My princess, I ask for your hand to become my wife and Queen to my Kingdom." His tone was strong, not betraying the slightest emotion that threatened to blow from his chest. His heart was clasped tightly against his ribs, as if they were stabbing it slightly. Sustaining him enough life to live painfully, but not enough to take away the misery he was to live in.

"Why, my King, I am flattered. Though, if you remember my preposition some time ago, you know I am only a handmaiden to your glory. I accept." Regina's lips curved gracefully into her sly, yet fox-like smile. She reminded him of the goddess Aphrodite herself, with her beautiful and sly crafted lips. It made him want to sink to his knees with agony.

Perseus forced himself to give her a shining smile, one perhaps full of happiness, as if marrying Princess Regina was the only thing that would complete his life. But only woman would ever satisfy that need…and she would never speak to him again. His heart seemed to bleed the sadness that filled there, filling his chest with a horrible excruciating pain so great. This was not life, or freedom. This was not all he had worked for, and it certainly was not what his people wanted… They wanted an heir, and he would give them one. He would give them his heir, with this woman, ruling beside him.

With the air of the king he was, Perseus rose to his feet and pulled a scroll from his desk. He unrolled the golden paper and handed it to the king of Sparta. The man smiled the same sly, cruel smile as his daughter. "It is a marriage contract, if you would please sign, my lord." The young King smiled kindly to the older one.

King Reagus took hold of the quill the King held out to him and gently pressed the tip to the golden parchment. He slowly scrawled his name out. The High King observed his amateur scrawl from the distance; it was easy to see the man had never had schooling in his life. It was very understandable, Sparta did not focus on literature, art, or even expansion, they focused on power and the art of war. War was a balance of both beauty and blood. Perseus had come to learn many great strategies from this very man, now he could scarcely stand to look at him.

"It is done," the king said at long last. Perseus looked at the golden scroll and signed his own name quickly across the bottom of the page. He snapped it off the desk and rolled it quickly beneath his powerful fingertips.

"Thank you, my lord. Fredrick, come." Perseus directed his attention to the page that stood silently by his desk. "My boy, take this to the royal messenger, and make sure, lad, he knows to send this to all the rulers. Now, go with the gods Fredrick and hurry home!" The King chuckled and patted the young man as he rushed off.

"Now, my lord and lady, I'm sure you are tired from your journey. I'll send for spare rooms to be made up for you. You'll have to excuse the dirt flooring, the new marble is being sent in from Itallica. We're still preoccupied making my own chambers and privy floored." The King smiled with ease and rushed them off with one of his Companions.

Once he was alleviated of the pressure that Regina put upon him, he only wanted to rest on his bed, but he realized he had another council meeting. Perseus rushed to it quickly and listened only with half a mind. His eyelids dipped closed from time to time, only to be torn open by a rude retort from one of the kings. At last, the King was released from the council with such a barren and weary mind he stumbled to his chamber.

The warm light the candles flickered along walls was complementary to the beautiful tapestries that his mother had sown of Poseidon. One was of a great god, as many Argonians perceived him. A merman with a golden trident in his hand a crown of kelp in his strong hand. The eyes of the god were powerful and seemed to be all knowing, he was the king of the ocean…but his mother, talented in her work, made the sadness visible in his eyes. There was a distant look of yearning and the work was breathtakingly beautiful. The next was of the god with the rest of the Council of Olympus. He was portrayed in the middle of the gods as they mapped strategies of war across an ocean. His sea green eyes seemed purely focused on finding this single, most important route, but the sadness still lingered there…as if he could never be rid of it. The final one, the most puzzling, yet lovely of them all was the man. He was Poseidon, as anyone with eyes could see. But his expression was agonizing, as if an infinite struggle went on inside. He was not the god, or the powerful strategist, but a simple man. A man who lost his love and yearned for her, but he did not know the key to bring her back to him. Poseidon was lost, but it was not only that, but something haunted him inside. It seemed to drive to the point of madness and delirium.

"Oh, sweet Mother!" Perseus cried out and fell to his knees. The old wounds of his mother's death ripping open newly once more. She had known this day would come. His father had known this day would come. They had schemed this message behind him, when he was perhaps, only a babe. She was sly, his old mother, but she had loved him so. She had used her wonderful, splendorous talent to show him this. He lay upon the floor for a short while, before feeling the first tear fall.  
"Why? What is your will for me, Father?" he asked softly. "Why do you torture me so, Father? All I have ever wanted was her, and she is not yet mine…" he breathed into the quietness of the room. He slowly began to get up and pluck at the ivory buttons that held his shirt to him. He sighed deeply and sadly, before pulling the shirt over his head. His powerful, strong arms felt weak and tingly from the physical work he had done with men that day.

"You must truly show more of yourself to me, my lord." A silky voice whispered. He froze as he knew that voice. It sent a shiver down his spine like an electrifying tingle.

"How long have you stood there?" His voice was strong, but his breath had begun to come out in labored breaths.

"Long enough, my King." Her voice tickled his skin, sending gooseflesh breaking out across his warm and bronze body. She stepped into the light, wearing only a sheet of silk across her body to cover herself. The long wavy, rippling hair flew down her back and across her shoulders making it hard to even look upon her face.

Her hips swayed so tantalizing close to him. Her eyes he could feel burning holes into his forehead, but he couldn't bare himself to look down on her. Because her eyes were like the very eyes of Medusa, one single look at her…and she would have him turned to stone. Whatever she cared to do with him was her liking if he fell into that horrible trap she had laid.

"Regina, please leave me." He spoke, but it was impractical to beg for her leave.

A soft hand pressed against his chest, a sly smile curling up on her lips. "Oh, but, my King, I know you do not wish for that." She slid her other hand upon his solid, bare chest. She traced the fine lines of muscle that ran across his abdomen and then placed both on his cheeks. This was the strategy all along, he realized. She didn't want him to look at her willingly, but for her to force the long, fiery desire he clasped inside out of him.

"Regina…please…" he whimpered.

"Perseus, look at me." With the last shred of fight leaving him, Perseus raised his eyes to meet hers. The world fell away in pieces as a fiery embrace circled around him. Her eyes so full of a hot, white need he wanted to feel and caress. The beauty of the moment took the King by surprise and muffled his painful thoughts of Annabeth. Regina's gaze was powerful, but it was solid and steady. It held him on his feet as his mind sunk lowly into the depth of her breath. He leaned down and her body curved upwards against his. Their kiss was not the gentle, ever-loving kisses the King had shared with Annabeth, but a passion so flaming and hot it became deep and breathtaking.

As the desire sunk into his veins, Perseus realized his love for Annabeth was what he was feeling with Regina. It was not the princess's grace that he felt, but a pain so deep ridden with desire that it was unleashed in that one burst of the affection with Regina. Annabeth was the one he yearned to lie with… The one he wished to hold as they fell to the dark oblivion of sleep after it, but Regina was the only one there… The only one he would have there for the rest of his reign.


	10. Author's Note

**Important Author's Note: READ! **

**Today February 24, 2013 marks the one year anniversary of When the Owl Met Water was posted. I would like to say thank you to all my amazing reviewers, followers, and favoriters. You guys make it all the worthwhile, and I love writing it! Anyway, in honor of the one year mark of the story's birth, I have a little challenge for you guys. I would like you to pick one of your favorite characters from my series, doesn't have to be just from Book 1, it can be from the Return of King, too! Pick one and write me a little brief little essay how I can improve with that character, why you like him or her, and what you think it would be like to live in the ancient Greek/ ****medieval times. I need these little essays no later than March 3! PM me or post a review. I will announce the winner of my little contest a few days afterwards. **

**Contest Rules: **

**I. At least two paragraphs long, doesn't have to be a giant fancy thing either:) **

**II. ONE character only **

**III. No cheating or anything like that (i trust all of you though not to do something like that:)) **

**IV. Submissions past March 3rd will be considered invalid. Sorry:( **

**Thanks! :)**

**Now, go read my story!:) **


	11. Death and Birth

**A/N: So, I know your all super mad at me for not updating. I'm really sorry about that guys, stuff's just been happening soooooo fast. Life's been hard the past few weeks and it's been hard for me to even feel an ounce of inspiration. Even when I did feel like writing a few pages of this book, I would kill off Percy or Annabeth without even thinking about it **** So, my goal is to update in the next two weeks. Thanks for all those who submitted little essays to my contest, I really appreciate it. Happy St. Patty's Day! (BTW that's my birthday;)) –Fel Hartington **

**Four Years Later… **

Blood. It was everywhere. From the rustic walls of the cottage to the smooth wooden floors. It pooled in puddles of lakes and rivers. It formed into oceans of red, filled with black liquid that slunk towards the doorways and windows. Everything was drenched and splattered like a child's sickly drawling. Nothing moved or breathed. A large golden sword was sided with a bloody edge; it was gripped in the hand of a young man. His eyes were wide and panicked, but his chest failed to produce a rise and fall of breath. He was dead.

Across from the young man was a painting. The painting was large and extremely grand. It had been painted by one of the Kingdom's greatest artists of all time. At one time it had held a picture of the notorious King Ly. His cold blue eyes had observed the room with a look of authority, often present in the High King's eyes of current day. Now that King Ly's time had ended a new picture was placed into the polished golden frame. A man rode upon a pure black stallion, the horse rearing wildly, with a wild look of delight and boldness in the man's eyes and his mouth open to a smile like he had been laughing. There was a modest ringlet that rested on the man's long, black hair. His powerful arms held onto the stallion's mane with little effort, and a distant sea rested in the background. A large splatter of blood was splashed across the beautiful painting, but that was not the most alarming thing of all. A single, but terrifying slash was made across the great King's neck. Finally, to finish off the horror, the murderer had painted a large, elegant _**L **_across the painting.

More bodies rested beneath the painting some of children, others of men. Up the stairs was another young man, his whole body shaking wildly as his arms were tied to a wooden chair. Wide-eyed and terrified, the young man tried to squirm out of his bonds, but he failed. A large, dark man stood in front of the boy. He held a silver knife with a snake's head at the hilt to the young man's neck. His long black cape was marked with a large, blood-red cursive L on the back. His face was masked by a velvet hood, but a long strand of black hair twirled out from beneath the hem.

"Tell me what you know of the King's plan, and perhaps your death will be quick." The man's voice was almost lethal in itself. It could have ripped through the very skin of a man if it had been a knife. It was dark and violent, with only a shred of humanity lingering within it. The voice belonged to a man who would not hesitate to kill, even if he was faced with an innocent child.

"I-I know nothing, s-ss-sir." The young man stuttered with fear as his wide brown eyes studied the man's blade dripping with sick, green venom.

"Lies!" The man hissed. He slapped the knife against the side of the boy's face. He screamed out in pain as the venom burned into his cheek, it sunk into his skin and began to trace through his veins. He writhed in the seat as the murderer's poison ran throughout his body.

"That was Della poison, my boy. It will kill you, but only through an agonizing process of eating your innards and mind. If you give me answers, I will kill you quickly." The assassin's voice was filled with a smile. It was laced with a cruel and cynic edge. "What is your name, little one?" he asked with a sweet, mocking voice.

"Kane." the boy whispered between his gasps of labored breaths.

"Well, my sweet Kane, tell me, do you know the High King?" The dark-cloaked man asked.

"Y-Yes." Fear gripping his tone as he squeaked out the answer.

"How well?" He asked with a uninterested flick of his hand.

"I was to be a knight, one of Companions. He trained me himself," Kane breathed with effort.

"That is absolutely heartwarming, young one. I wish you could see how entertaining this is for me to watch." He chuckled darkly, and trailed the blade around young Kane's neck. Kane bit down on his cracked and dry lips to keep from screaming out in pain. "Do you adore the High King, my boy? Is he truly the 'Golden King'?" he asked with another chuckle.

A light came to young Kane's eyes. It was defiant and proud, and love swelled into them. He looked up to his capture's eyes, hidden from the light that spewed in from the window. "Yes. He is my King. And he will find you, sir. He will find you and curse you to the Underworld. You will rot for your sins in which you have committed." Kane's face turned light a smile drew itself upon the boy's lips.

The hand on the dagger tightened and it began to shake in a convulsive state. He released a large cry and dug the blade into the boy's heart. He raised it once more and stabbed Kane again and again. Blood was once more spewed across the room like paint on a clean art easel. He screamed and threw the dagger across the room, flinging it into the peeling plaster of the wall. He knocked over the chair that dead and limp Kane was still bonded to. His anger fuming from the man like a deadly gas.

"It is not I who will rot, little boy, but the King," he yelled into the empty air. The killer left the room in an angry charge, leaving brave Kane on the floor, still meekly tied to the chair. His hair touched his own blood while his face was still curved into a victorious smile.

**Annabeth **

It had been many summers since fortune had fallen upon Annabeth. Now of the age of twenty-three, yet age had not softened the pain the queen had gone through when the wedding of the High King came along. She had become "abed" for weeks afterward. She refused to lay eyes on anyone but her beloved Lia. Nico had tried to reach out to her, but she had shooed away her distant love. He was greying at his head now. Even though he had been the same age as the King, his age more evident than the High King's age, who appeared, if anything to be more youthful than Nico.

Annabeth had dreaded the light of day months after Perseus' marriage. Samuel had gotten sick as the stable wrote, his legs going stiff and lame from her inactivity with him. She had wanted to go to her beloved bay stallion, but she could not remove herself from underneath her warm covers. Deep under her quilts and blankets she felt as if she was suffocating and dying, the pain of living slowly easing from her. Then, she would wake up in a writing fit of screams. Her unprecedented nightmares becoming more and more prevalent with passing days those days becoming months, and soon enough years. Now they hit her like a numb ache. She felt empty and so insufficiently kept.

Soon after the marriage of the High King and Queen, tragedy struck the Kingdom of Crete. Just two years of age, sweet young Emery had been playing near the grand staircase one morning. He had just begun to wattle and run on his own. It had been Lia's place that morning to watch the little prince, but she had dozed off while supervising him. Nico had just come in through the palace doors, and Emery had seen his father. Ever excited to be lifted into his father's strong arms, the little boy rushed down the stairs, but his legs got tangled and he fell.

Nico had seen his son stumble and he had run. Time slowed like water through mud, each minute seemed like an eternity. When the king had finally reached his son the little boy was a limp and wax-like figure. He was still warm and rosy-cheeked from life. Emery's bright green eyes shined lifelessly as they gazed up blankly at his father's face. His swish of blond hair that cradled his face damped from a splotch of blood that was pooling beside his small head. Nico shook his son's lifeless body with a gentle squeeze.

"Em, please wake, my son," he murmured as he sobbed into the little prince's neck. "Emery!" he cried with a inconsolable moan of sadness. Lia looked down at the two frozen with grief and numb with surprise. Nico held Emery up to his chest and gently closed his eyes. Tears streamed down his bronze face like great fruit, blooming from their ripe season. "Emery…" he whispered with an agonized voice.

A palace guard had found the three and went to inform the queen. Annabeth had been scarily calm and cold. Her voice had snapped at the guard to leave her to her peace. She refused to leave her chambers for anything, but eating and relieving herself. Annabeth truly showed no signs of heartbreak at the news of her son's death, and at the memorial for the young prince, she shed no tear. It was as if the queen did not care for her son, nor had she ever. When truly she had loved him dearly and most sincerely. No one could gather why the queen turned so icy when you spoke of the King or even why her eyes grew even colder at the mention of her son. Many assumed it was heartbreak, but others thought she was going mad.

Time had passed and Luke served as regent when King Nico went to the mainland for duties as a member of the High King's Council. Annabeth had grown to only look to Luke for a bleak sense of direction. He would tell her stories of his journeys on the seas and it would amaze her. The sheer adventure and experience that Luke finally was able to achieve made her yearn for the taste of the salty air and long, tropical beaches in the "Warmlands" as Luke called them across the world. It would ease her mind and allow her to think of other things besides King Perseus and Queen Regina. At times, Grover would join them. He would hold Annabeth's hand from time to time and she would lead her head against his shoulder as he would toy with her hair. It was intimate, but she felt some emotion with the two of them. It was more than the excruciating numbness she was filled with.

Nico, to counter the queen, did not recover from the death of his son. He was broken and often extremely silent. He was lost in thought, and at times, stayed in his study for days on end. Queen Annabeth tried to reason with him when she herself was not cold and ill. But the king was too lost in his own world of grief and pain to hear his love's words. His dark, black eyes that were once filled with power and mystique were now crammed and deepened with anguish and agony. There was no hope left for the king, or even his soul. He felt that it was utterly gone and forever lost.

Life slowly carried on with the Cretian Kingdom. There was peace, essentially, throughout the entire Kingdom. Then there came a day when Annabeth's heart had not thought she could endure more pain, but it came like a murderer in the night. It slashed her across the heart with an ugly, scar and laughed at her with mockery. The messenger was an Argonian guard, a good smile had rested on his face as he had handed the scroll to Nico. The king's sunken face and tired eyes had carelessly scanned the scroll with haste. He handed it to Annabeth his little care or expression. She pulled it open with the tips of her fingers and read each word, almost collapsing with pain.

_My dear friends,_

_It has been a great, long while since I last spoke to you. My heart pains over this, but I carry grand tidings and awesome news! Queen Regina, my beautiful queen and wife, has conceived a babe. My one wish, my friends, is for your blessing and love. Nico, with all due respect, I ask that you give this separate courier to Annabeth, that is for her lovely eyes only. _

_Your Servant and Friend, _

_Perseus _

"My lord, what separate parchment is there?" Annabeth asked with a soft tone, as she rested her palm of the king's arm. He tensed and looked at the messenger with narrowed eyes.

"You heard the queen, where is it?" He snapped with such hate in his voice, it made the very core of Annabeth vibrate. The Argonian smiled, his dark, burgundy eyes suddenly became recognizable with his boyish grin. Annabeth's heart leaped in her chest.

"Charles!" She cried. She ran from her seat and flew into the man's arms. The queen and the prince may not have always been friends, but he was a single shred of the man she loved. He smelled like the sea, free and loose of any evil or despair. Perseus' friend chuckled and his broad chest rumbled beneath her ear. The queen could feel a single tear slip from her eye and she looked up at him, a single question lingered in her eyes. _How does he fair? _Prince Charles ruffled her hair, but his smile was sad.

"Here is the King's letter, my lady, Queen." He gently pulled an ivory scroll with the rearing horse of Argos sealed upon it. Annabeth shakily slipped her delicate fingers beneath the seal and opened it. The letter was elegantly written in the King's neat and beautifully looped cursive. The queen sighed and began to read.

_Annabeth, _

_With each fleeting moment I am tormented with an agonizing pain. A horrible wound that festers and does not close or heal, and whatever I do to stop it, only reminds me of what I have lost. You were my breath that allowed me to breathe, my eyes which allowed me to look upon your beauty, and, my one and truly only, heart which gave me life and happiness. I want to see you, my dear. Be with you forever and always. You know that deeply inside of you, from the very abysmal pits of my soul that it is you that I love. _

_The son that Regina will bear, my dear, will be none like ours. He will not replace the gaping abyss in my heart for the loss of our son. Annabeth, my sweet and beautiful, Annabeth, I vow to you that I will come back to you. I will _always _come back to you. If I must crawl across the fiery pits of hell to reach you, I will. Worry not of me, my love, for I will be your knight forever… Until the day I die, my Athenian princess. _

_Love Eternally, _

_Percy _

Annabeth's breath was knocked from her in a sudden jolt. The parchment seemed warm and frighteningly real and solid beneath her fingertips. She looked up to her brooding husband, he knew what the courier said just by the slight glance of her face. His bronze fist curled around the silver arm of the chair. His knuckles whitening with anger and hate welling in his eyes, and with one swift movement of his fist he slammed it against the chair's arm.

"What does that fiend wish from me! He has taken my son, my kingdom, and now he wishes for my wife! What else does he want from me?" he snapped with sheer hate and venom on his tongue. It was so thick and immense that it filled his words and stabbed Annabeth painfully into her insides.

"Husband! He has done nothing wrong." The queen's words begged her lord to reconcile his harsh animosity towards the King. Her heart skipping beats, something that had not happened in quite a long while. "Nico," she grasped his arm with a calm and focused look on her face. His eyes met hers and she could see through the tunneling blackness of his eyes. She could see like a mirror through them. She knew he was dying of pain inside. His heart yearned for her…for sweet young Emery, who had left them too soon. She knelt before him and placed her slender hands on his strong thighs.

"I love you, my lord. That is the truth that will never change. That is the one single and solemn weapon that I will give to you, my Nico. Because you have given me all that I have asked for, and you have dealt with the pain of our son's death…" Her eyes welled with tears and she crawled into his lap like a child. "You carried the weight of the world, while I pouted in my quarters like a spoiled child. I sincerely apologize for that, my love." She felt a single wet drop fall to her shoulder and slide down her bare arm. She looked up and saw that a solitary tear trickled down Nico's olive face. It slid across the fine plains of his face and to his chin.

"Sweet wife of mine, why does thy heart cry for thou's?" His eyes filled with infinite, untouchable sadness. She broke against him and circled her arms around him, and he wound his own around her. The king and queen sat in the throne chair weeping like children alike. It was in that moment that she realized she could love the two of them. She could love her dark and mourning husband, while, at the same moment, love her Golden King.

They were frozen like that for an eternity. Tears wetted both of their faces like streams running through valleys and mountains. Annabeth's chest felt, for the first time in years, lighter. She felt like blood ran through her veins again, that it had warmed and did not freeze her heart. She could feel the soft air of Nico's breath against her neck like silk running across her bare skin. "Fair love, wait," Annabeth spoke softly to her husband, as he reached for her lacing. She grabbed his hands within her long, graceful ones.

"Making the king stop his passion, my queen, is punishable by death." He murmured into her ear with a sly smile licking at the corners of his fine, olive lips.

"Then I will be punished by your very law, my lord." Annabeth's tone was serious and firm and her words clipped and concise as she spoke them. "Charles," she addressed the High King's friend, standing up quietly as she did. "Would you wish to spend a _wythnos_, before your journey back to Argos? You may do what you wish at your leisure here, but we would enjoy your company." The queen wished to truly here of the King. How did Perseus fair? She ached to whisper his name so sweetly on the tip of her tongue. His name offered sweet relief to some part of her tired and worn heart.

"I appreciate your offer, Queen Annabeth, but the King looks for my return swift and soon," Charles said with a dry smile as he looked to King Nico. "Is that all, my lord, before I am to be on my way?" He adjusted his cape that cascaded across his back, it settled at the feet of him like a river that has been touched by the sun's first morning rays.

"No, I'm finished with your work, _Prince _Charles," Nico spat with distaste lingering fiercely on his tongue.

"My lord, please." Annabeth put a hand on her husband's shoulder, they felt like iron beneath her hand. They only tightened at her touch.

"Then I wish you the best, my friend." The notorious smirk twisted upon Charles' face. He turned on his heel and moved out of the door. His boots could be heard like thunder as they barreled across the long, red carpets. Annabeth soon heard the footfalls of Perseus' brother fall silent and she directed her attention once more to her empty husband. She bent before him and placed her hands on the tops of his knees lightly. Her dress skirt spewing out behind her like a rich blue lake, it circled around her slim form as she knelt. The queen looked up into his eyes. They revealed everything like water that is so clear that it reaches down to the bottoms of the abyss, but he still remained rigid with anger.

"Does thy lord hateth' of me?" Annabeth's smooth Latin twirled from her tongue in a soothing tone. She was reminded of the first day of her marriage to Nico. His tenacious curiosity of her, made her fall in love with the dark king. His ever persistent questions of her love and hate of him, causing feelings so sharp and deadly she had been afraid of giving him any of her care. Nico had wielded a burning path straight into her heart with his black sword of death, but his love for her was as vast at the great _Mare Nostrum_.

"Perhaps the question is, my dear wife, do you still lay your claim unto me?" His words were tinged with weariness, but the flame of his passion for her still lingered there, deep in the pits of his eyes.

Annabeth rose to her full height and grasped the king's hands in her own. She allowed him to rise beside her as she bowed her head slightly. Her golden crown that was laced with beautiful gems that fell like dewfall onto her forehead, fell to the ground with a ringing clash of marble and gold. The jewels scattering across the floor like rain. Nico did not grab her rashly, nor did he imply of any anger. "When the greatest cities crumble to the ground in their corruption and defeat, there shall be nothing left for the people. The kingdom will burn to nothing but ash when its people are dispersed, my lord. That crown is the ominous foreshadowing of our fate, Nico.

"There will be always the nation that can dwindle us to our minimum, but there will always be the love of the family," she gently laid her hands against his cheeks. "We will never perish, my dear, when there is love. Love that is so strong it will move the mountains and crush the enemy with an iron fist, because, my husband, there is no greater weakness or strength than love. I lay my love to you, my lord. I lay it at your very feet because I am your maid and you are my master." Annabeth's voice carried power and clear cutting authority that made the air in the throne room shiver. "I will lay my claim unto you, my king, until the day that you die." Her grey eyes flashing so murderously and violently, that if one were to have even glanced into them they could have been burned by their degree.

Nico's eyes softened and his arms slid down around her, while feeling the soft silk of her dress beneath his fingers. "I must remember in the next life not to marry a woman with such intelligence as you, my dear." He chuckled quietly as he laid his forehead against hers. They were silent for a long moment, and for that one moment of solemn silence, there was light restored in the both of them. There was a life meant living again.

"Is love meant to be tied to hatred?" Nico asked after what felt like a millennia. Annabeth, nestled into him, furrowed her brow.

"There is no hatred, Nico. They are one. They are the same, to hate, you must love. To love, you must hate."


	12. All is Fair in Love and War

**A/N: Sooooo, I know I suck! I haven't updated in a really long time, but I've been super busy! None of you have any idea! So, I got my first flamer ever…the other day…it was fucking great. NOT. Look, this is to all of you, who have flamed a writer. We may not be the best at what we write down on paper, and whatever you may believe is the best, I uphold that opinion that's fucking great! But harshly criticizing another is not the way to play this game, if you got a problem with MY story or any other story GO READ ANOTHER ONE. It's not that difficult. You also have to take into consideration that these are people's thoughts! I mean come on, writing for most of us, is like a window to our own lives. If you read closely in any author's stories you'll see pieces of their life are meticulously fit into them. So, once again, flamers, I agree with you that some stories can be not that great, but no story, "SUCKS REALLY BAD! LEARN HOW TO WRITE, BITCH!" Yup. That was my flame. Sorry, that was my rant of the day. Enjoy guys! **

**Two Years Earlier**

**Perseus **

A fair colored palomino pawed at the ground outside the palace gates. Her powerful, spindly legs were covered with dried blood and dirt. Her once beautiful full form and body was now caved and malnourished and her coat that had held the gleam of the heavens within its golden coat was now dull and untended to. She had stumbled before the great iron gates, always open for the people, and almost collapsed. Two of the palace guards grabbed at her reigns and steadied her until they could call onto the equestrian master. She had whinnied with such sorrow and despair, as they grappled for her halter. She was desperate for something, for her restlessness was obvious of warn.

Her rider was nowhere to be found. The mare's back had been splattered with blood and along the top of her graceful spine was a crude, but elegant _L_ carved into her muscle. A fine river of scarlet ran from the letter, it was clear that the mare was losing much blood. Her eyes became clear and unfocused. The equestrian master could do nothing for her, but bandage her back properly. It only slowed the endless flow of blood. "Gods' wounds." The equestrian master had hissed. "What magic is this?" He hissed to his protégé.

He sent the boy to request for the King's guidance. Seeking audience with the King on a day during the norm week was a thing that was next to impossible. The lines of townspeople trailed out of the trial room like a maze around the main room. He pushed through the dense mass of flesh and bodies until he reached the beginning of the queue. The young boy was out of breath as he finally managed to catch the King's eye.

He cradled a petite little girl in his lap. Her wide kaleidoscope eyes seemed to catch the very solitary movement of the boy's chest. Her long, curly hair was pulled behind her back by a thin, silver ribbon. The boy looked past the little girl and at the King, meeting his eyes. "Arianna, why don't you go find your father?" The King asked with a chuckle as he set the little child down easily.

"Papa's only just arrived, Uncle Percy." Arianna's mouth, which was slim and full, frowned with distaste.

"Exactly, my dear niece, he'll want to lay his eyes on you, now run along." This statement struck the child particularly sorely. She furrowed her brow deeply and a small tear fell from her eye, but she didn't throw a fit, rather ran from the room on her little legs. She shoved past the many spectators still waiting in lines that could have reached back to the sea and returned without stretching a single person over.

After the child had left the room, the King turned back to his subjects and people. "My people and friends, I will direct my attention to you in the next stretch of time, but I must now direct it to another matter. Forgive me for my poor use of planning skills." Perseus said as he bowed acutely, before turning slightly back to the boy. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the throne room, into a small round room off to the side.

Stone walls surrounded the two of them, spiraling up into forever around a marble staircase. Light beams came from the dirty windows was filtered into the dank stair shaft like sunlight through clouds. The King looked down at the young boy with green eyes that were so filled and wisdom, the young man almost choked on his words.

"Speak, my boy, what is it you seek?" King Perseus asked with a small grin playing on his face, his wise eyes only gleamed more so.

"A horse is in the courtyard, my lord. Sir Mortus wanted me to retrieve you."

"A horse? Why does that matter, Levi?"

Levi swallowed hard with a bitter taste flaring up in his tongue. "It is Lady Silena's mare, my King. On her back…" Levi's voice broke off with a sharp crack. He felt his breath stick in his chest, unable to be released. Perseus grasped the boy by the shoulders, while kneeling to his height.

"Levi, my boy, you have nothing to fear with me." He whispered soothingly to him.

"There was a mark, my King."

"How do you mean?"

"An L, my lord. The letter L."

Sickness and fear rolled over the King with a sheer force of shock. His stomach squeezed tightly against itself, like a snake suffocating him until his breath was no more. He only nodded to the boy with a simple acknowledgement he had heard him. If the King had opened his mouth, words that this poor child should not have to hear would have stumbled out, dizzy and unbridled.

"Lady Silena is missing, my lord." The boy told Perseus with a quivering lip. His voice broke and cracked like the sea's crashing waves onto the bluff.

"Levi, where is the mare?" King Perseus asked with a calmness that masked his inner storm.

"She lays out yonder in the courtyard, my lord. The equestrian master has her, King Perseus." Levi trembled under the powerful gaze of the King, which could have made flames as high as the heavens dissolve into nothingness. His very movement of his breath could have brought the wrath of the gods down upon Levi, he knew this very man, was a god among them. He had gone through the twelve tests of the gods and lived.

"Take me to her, my boy." The young man nodded and brought the King across the palace and into the grand courtyard, surrounded by the grand limestone walls that seemed to breathe secrets of lost ages. The beaten mare was standing lamely, her head down with sorrow as if she mourned. Perseus watched the mare for a moment and walked gracefully to her side, as he gently ran his hand across her flank. A light suddenly aroused itself in her eyes while she raised her beautiful, pale head attentively.

"There, sweet girl. Speak." His voice was soft like the breath of wind that rustles through the weeping willows that lay in the Queen's garden. The mare raised her head and rested it on his shoulder breathing deeply like her worries were being melted away. "Lady Silena has been taken…" He said with a whisper as he turned to Levi and the equestrian master.

"Go to Charles; inform him of his wife's capture. _Now._" His last word was sharp like his own blade that hung at his hip. Two guards jumped at his command and hastily muttered replies as they hurried to carry out his bidding. He patted the mare and raised his hand to her wound where the L still bled profusely, with one hand he gently let water fall from his palm and onto her, like the gods had touched the mare herself, she was healed. "Levi, take Fotia to the stables and make her comfortable." He handed the young man the reigns with a gentle smile.

Levi shakily took hold of the fine leather straps. "What will you do, my lord?" His voice quavering with fear.

"Take back what is properly mine, Levi." He pulled the sword from within its scabbard and ran his fingers along the long bronze artwork on the handle. "Silena would have killed her capturer within the moment his fingertips touched her, my dear boy. She is a dainty, yet a dangerous woman with a hateful vengeance against the world." He chuckled deeply with a faint smile drawing onto his face. "I shall return."

Like magic the great King whistled and his sheer black stallion, Cabe, galloped to him from some far off pasture. Perseus lifted himself easily onto the great steed's back and settled himself grandly upon him. He rested his strong fingers inside the stallion's mane and with a gentle tug Cabe reared and raced through the palace gates. The horse's mighty strides echoing across the land as the King and stallion raced through the city with people crying out to the King with happy tidings.

"Long live the King!" They shouted as man and horse past like the likings of wind. They flew across the cobblestone streets racing to meet the city walls, the King feared in his noble heart it would be too late to save Silena. She had so newly wedded Charles not, but four summers ago. The babe that they had conceived was a beautiful girl, now a princess of the High Kingdom. She had been a true enjoyment to the prince and the King alike, but Silena was distant of her child. She called her blood impure and foiled with the twist of Hell. Afresh was Silena's attitude towards most of everything, her bitterness towards her husband and daughter, whom both consumed her with love and favor. She said her sight was blind and her visions darkened by something cruel and full of evil.

It was the first day of autumn when Perseus was enlightened of the evil that Silena foretold of. The Carroways, a family so well respected and profound, was murdered by an unseen force. Lord Carroway, a retired Companion of Ly and Perseus, was so disfigured, but artfully murdered the King did not know how to proceed to finding the murderer. It was not until a single, yet elegant _L_ was found on the doors of the stables. Crudely painted in dried blood, Perseus found later, the blood was tainted with a deadly poison.

Silena professed it was the touch of a multitude, not by the hand of one. She had been gone on a journey to Mount Parnassos that lined the city of Delphi, her only reasoning was to be at peace with her lord, Apollo. Perseus knew her mind was darkened by a sickness that he nor Charles could identify, but she sought answers that only she, herself, could unearth.

King Perseus had ridden well-past the city lines when he found a dried puddle of crimson lying beneath a rose bush. His heart began to lose its calm and was lost in a series of twisted, mindless beats. He leaped from Cabe and landed lightly on his booted feet as he walked with great wariness towards the bush. Riptide seemed to come to life at his hip, screaming to be unsheathed from her rest. The King resisted the urge to pull the sleeping weapon from his sheath, as he gated towards the bush.

"…_let the righteous be brought forth in an awe of power, while the cruel in spirit shall be put down by his mighty sword. The sword that breathes and lives with its own power of the gods shall be the last enemy of the crown…" _The empty, yet raspy voice of the oracle was known to all. Perseus' sword was swept from his sheath as he cut the blade through the entangled brambles of thorns. Within the last of the broken brambles, the woman laid with her head cocked to an awkward angle, while her sheer mane of black surrounded her skull like a dark halo. Her blue eyes were glowing with an ultimate light that blinded the High King.

"Silena, my lady." He whispered to her. He noticed the words that spewed from her tongue were ripped and broken, she looked as though she were a corpse speaking to the dead air. A grotesque and raw cut slashed across her breast to her left hip.

_"War shall be birthed into a broken plain with rich and awesome power. Betrayal shall be torn from the strongest branch and true leadership torn from the lowest of them. The love will be forbidden. Every kingdom will fall until the mighty godly one shall burn to the ground. The son of the gods shall be pierced-ˮ _Her words were slipped from her mouth as her slim body began to shake with horrifying convulsions that seemed to strike her from mid-torso making her jerk as if bitten by some venomous viper.

"Lovely woman, answer me!" Perseus took her into his arms, vigorously pushing her sodden locks of sweat away from her brow. He raised his fingers to her forehead and touched gently at a swollen mark that had been placed there. In that moment, her shakes ceased and her limbs went limp like death. Her absent eyes looked upwards towards heaven, and her breath had all but forsaken her. She was gone like a sweet, young chick from her egg she had moved into the heavens with the gods. Her shell of a body was laying cracked in pieces within his arms.

Tears sprung to the King's eyes as he sought for some movement. Some hope of existence of life in her eyes. He sought for a light that had been blown out and smothered by some monster that he had not seen. Perseus stood to his full height, towering above the puddle of blood that had formed around her body. His black, leather boots were splattered with traces of the prophetess' blood. And it was then, that the anger of the High King arose from within the pit of his stomach. It had lied in sleep for years, only to rise once again with vengeance for his friend's death.

"You truly must calm that rage…you might slaughter an army down to a man with it." Her soft voice erupted through his clouds of thunder and as he looked down, impeccable joy flew to his chest with bursts of unbridled happiness. Her blue eyes were full of light, living and breathing life. Life that had surged forth in the darkness of the Underworld, that had pushed itself into her lungs and made her breath come forth.

"Silena, oh, my sweet friend! Praise the gods your soul has been found." Tears sprung from his eyes and splashed upon her bosom, her injury already beginning to heal from her magic.

"You do not believe in my power, Perseus?" She chuckled weakly like a chaff of wheat being blown in the wind. "Who is the man that states only _you _may come back from death in itself?" A feline grin revealing her perfect teeth was pulled onto her lips.

"A very ignorant one, my lady. A very ignorant one, indeed." Perseus' words were laced with a smile as he pushed her hair away from her eyes.

The laughter suddenly went out in the oracle's eyes and was replaced with desperate and raw fear. "Your son. He's in grave danger, Percy. He will die by the hand of my own killers; you must call on audience with the Queen of Crete and seek resolution with her. It is the only way that the future King shall live."

Deep embedding fear drove itself under the King's skin. He shuddered with a slight twitch of his arms, pulling Silena closer to him. Her very words made him feel the coldness that still struck at him near his heart, that night that seemed just a fortnight ago…when his love had left, when the light of his life had left his soul frozen. "Silena, Annabeth and I have not spoken in over three springs."

"Perhaps it is time to overcome that, my King." Her clear blue eyes now had collapsed into a collage of colors, becoming green to brown to blue within moments. She pushed against his powerful chest gently and was released from his grasp. "Love does not die, Perseus, it only fears pain. Your hearts will learn once more." Silena said this with a type of defiance. Like her very words stood against every ancient law that had been written. Perhaps they did, what she proposed the King do was provoking a sleeping lion that needed to be kept within his slumber.

Nico had darkened thoughts that the King was some kind of demon back from the Underworld, disguised as Perseus, after his wife and crown. He had not a clue as the man who had fed him these ideas, but whoever it had been was a member of the court. A man that was smooth as the sea beneath Poseidon's fingers, if Perseus even mentioned a motion to meet with the Queen of Crete there would be war. He sensed it deep within his chest that even the most meager push of King Nico's anger would provoke a deadly war between all Greece. The King being the one who had started the first of all bloody conflicts would be blamed and criticized by all of his people.

"My lady of Delphi, Nico will hear of it. There will always be an open eye lurking in the corner, an ear that hears too much, and lips that spread delicate, secretive news in whispers across the castle until every living being under my rule knows of my rendezvous with the queen." Perseus' spoke with a firm tongue, he would not allow the lady to see how truly he wanted to see his beloved. She crossed his mind in his dreams and waking moments, many times when he rode into battle her sweet voice would echo in his ear.

"My, Percy," Silena's voice sounded like liquid velvet as he toyed with Cabe's mane. "There will always be people, my lord, who would love for nothing better than to strike you down with their swords. There are two things you must learn of, Perseus, my first, your son will carry the Kingdom when it crumbles. Knowing this, lord, you must know your Kingdom will fall. It will burn to ashes so quickly that in its first years of corruption the cities will be reduced to nothing." She stopped speaking when she realized what she had done.

Perseus' thoughts crumpled together into a tightly squeezed ball within his head. They rushed at him with pain and hurt and the anger that he could no longer keep at bay, rushed through him. His Kingdom. Everything that he had fought for, the tests of the gods, and his love… All torn to shreds of debris and rock? No. He would not let it happen.

"Sweet King, there is not one god, man, beast, or even, you, who can stop the power of the Fates. There is the one hope of your son to live when we are all gone and dead. Live for that, Perseus, fight for that. If you will not, then this Kingdom will be ruled by a harsh man that lives for the death of innocents. Thousands will die and hundreds will suffer…" Tears welled in the woman's eyes. "Friends will betray…you." She swallowed her tears and turned to the dimming rays of the sun. "Meet with the queen, I beg of you, for man's sake and your own, my lord. For Emery's own life hangs in the balance, my lord."

The King agreed, but deep within him he was thinking of a great plan. One that would guarantee that the murderous group, L, would be brought to their knees, one that would make sure his nation did not fall, and most importantly, he would have his sweet and beautiful Annabeth by his side forever…

**Annabeth **

She was sent by an envoy to meet him. This man who had decided she was best out of his life, wanted to speak to her. She had scoffed and denied the invitation, but the envoy persisted and told her the King would come see her, himself. If the King was to come, the Kingdom would talk of nonsensical rumors. The queen agreed with silent reluctance as the envoy left her quarters. She had been in her bed chamber, at that point in time, watching the mighty waves roar against the surf. The froth leaving silver marks in the sand, while some remnants of some wrecked ship remained on the sand. Who had they been? Annabeth pondered. Some far off nation that relished in the idea of a new adventure… Had any of them lived to tell the disastrous tale of their journey to their children? Perhaps Annabeth could have been one of those men whom had died with the ship. It would have served her better than the life that she led now.

Annabeth arranged for a small carriage to be readied in one half of the hour. Lia had set to work on preparing an elegant gown for the queen to wear. It was sleek and fine, the silks that had made the gown were pale gold, while they glimmered slightly with embedded diamonds laced into the fabric. The skirts and silk, once wrapped around her form, were fastened near her neck to hold her chemise and corset together in a series of complicated ties down her back that seemed to look like art itself. She glared at her lovely face that delicately stared back at her, the queen was sickened.

"I hate this body, this atrocious and feminine body that the gods have bestowed upon me. I wish to rip it all away; perhaps when I am only muscle and bone, I will be ugly enough to scare away the lowliest man in the world." Annabeth said with a scowl crossing her sweet face. Her fierce and beautiful features seemed to mock her in the light of this glass mirror.

Her beloved nurse only smiled at her with an amused gleam in her eyes. "It provokes a chuckle from me, my dearest lady. A mother, and yet, still so meek and lovely in her looks. You should be honored the gods have blessed you with what you have." Lia's kind green eyes seemed to know all. She knew the secrets of life and death itself, but Annabeth did not wish to hear her sweet nurse's tales of love and glory.

"Lia, I am meant for greater things than this! Please tell me that you believe that I will be upon that great sea one day. I will be racing upon Samuel's back once more. I will soar into those clouds like a bird, free from all this! I want to be rid of it all." Her voice was sharp as knives and her eyes flashed dangerously like a murderous storm.

"Annabeth." Lia's firm voice rung out. "Think of the ones who have naught and look to yourself, my dear one, you are given the fortunate treasures that you possess for reasons. Perhaps, your reason is to raise Crete's kingdom higher and grander than any other worldly kingdom. Do not wish for a death that you do not deserve, nor truly want. The gods have an uncanny way of fulfilling those aspirations." Her nurse's eyes were filled with warning as bright as the sun. "Now, you can go see to the King, who waits for you, or you can wallow in your own self-misery. You were never a woman to glower at your self-misfortunes."

This woman held such vast knowledge inside her head. It was almost as if there was a light behind her green eyes something that made her greater than any man or woman. She had always been wise, Annabeth had known this woman since her childhood, but never had her eyes ever given such a fierce and bright light. It was Lia, but her eyes… Something was not fitting for her sweet nurse's face. It was a forbading beacon within them that rang out such brilliance. "Athena." Annabeth stated simply.

It was as she had broken the spell of the goddess. The wrinkles straightened out in her face and her eyes faded to a stormy grey as long and rich chestnut brown hair spouted from her scalp. The maiden goddess stood before her with same eyes, face, and body of her daughter, but she was a warrior. Her eyes were tighter and meaner than anything the queen had ever seen. "My child, I warn you of a great threat that has come to the Gates of Olympus. Your grandfather, the Lord Zeus, has been thrown into the darkest depths of Tartarus." Her eyes bore the clearest signs of fear; it was as if Annabeth was looking into the mirror that stood beside her.

Terror was lit within Annabeth's soul. Father Zeus, the one who gave life to both man and woman, god and demon, and land and ocean was held prisoner within this darkest depths of the Underworld. Would not have Lord Hades have seen his brother taken into that place of death and horror? If Zeus was not King on Olympus then Poseidon would leave his castle within the sea to tend to the heavens. It was quite possible that with the sea god gone…

"What does this mean, Mother?" The queen met the goddess' eyes. Her own storms meeting the wisdom goddess.

"It has been done by the man you call your love. It has been done by the High King Perseus and his father." Her eyes seemed to make the sky stand still. The waves stop from their melancholy wailing. They stopped all life because they began to burn. There was no longer storms…it was fire. Grey fire that would have melted the Earth if the goddess did not keep it at bay. "War, Annabeth. This means war."


	13. The Brillant Plan

**A/N: Holy shit! Fel Hartington's updating before a year has gone by! Yeah, writer's block is gone sooooo I got some new ideas! **** Thanks so much to everyone who favorite, followed, and reviewed! You guys seriously make my life! **

**Two Years Earlier **

Distant winds from off of the ocean's waves blew in through the open windows. The windows were high and arching like that of a cathedral's. They were interwoven with heavy golden borders that glimmered in the midday sun, but the room itself was not open and airy like the skies above it. The walls were filled with cold, limestone bricks that were set in a precise ordering, if one were to slightly be nudged; the whole foundation would have fallen. A long, mahogany table reached across the stone floor like a river. Upon the table was a golden engraving that was so delicately inscribed within it, a beautiful horse rearing upon his hindquarters. His mane was swept by some unknown wind, but his eyes glimmered with a harsh and courageous light. He seemed to radiate about the whole room, despite its simplistic look-around, the room was filled with a powerful presence that only suited a King. It seemed that gods lingered here and spirits of some past monarch moaned silently within the stone walls.

Thirteen chairs, furnished with turquoise velvet cushions, lined each side of the table with a simple one at the head that seemed to wish for no attention, but in the same respect, demanded the turn and eye of every man in the room. It was the seat of the King, where he would listen to the other kings of the land bicker and fuss of their problems until he ultimately made the decision. On the third day of every month, the King would call council and the kings would gather within this room to decide the fate of the country. The room would be filled with life, laughter, and, occasionally, the few threats of war and death. This would be silenced by a powerful look from the King, but in the early stages of any plan there was always animosity.

But on that day, there was a single man seated within the chair that was vertically across the King's. His head was bowed and a long cloak covered his face and body, as if he sought to bring the darkness of the room towards him. His fingers traced the gentle grooves of the smooth wood, but his eyes remained down from the other man who entered within the chamber. The boots of the other sounded like a deafening canon. Each click was a heart-wrenching stab into the man's insides.

"You have made your decision." Perhaps the man who had only just entered meant to pose it as a question, but he did not. His smooth voice did not skip or hesitate, it was swift and breezy.

"You promise to me that he will not be killed." The man said with a trembling voice, it had sounded like the Earth had fallen and burned within himself.

"I cannot promise he will not be tortured, Lacitus hungers for his blood, but I will promise to you his body will be upheld to the highest degree." The man's eyes seemed to flicker golden for a moment, before fading to their natural color.

"I demand this one respect for him! He is your-ˮ

"Do _not _say that he is my King, as well as yours. He has not been my King since the day his mother passed. He was not my King the day that Ly declared he would be heir to the throne of Argos. He will never be my King." Anger sliced through the other man's voice like the sword that was hung at his hip.

"Then I will die. My lord shall forgive me for the disservice I have done to him." His voice settled hard with determination. The man glared at the cloaked man with an amused glint in his eyes, before a laugh came from his mouth. A chuckle that grew into hysterics, until, finally, he was wiping tears from his eyes.

"I would…not…kill you…my lord." He chuckled out with a hand to his chest. "I would kill the thing you hold closer to you than even your King." His voice suddenly hardened and a harsh belligerent light flickered into his eyes.

"Then do so. I do not care for them any more than I care for him." His voice crumbled with the end of his sentence, his lie seen through like glass.

"Uphold your promise to us, and I will ensure your family's safety…perhaps your King will die with dignity." The man rose and met the cloaked man's. "Zeus has been overthrown. It is time to decide what side you shall be on, my friend. The one that will come out of the dark night of battle victorious, or the one that will fall to its knees pleading for mercy."

**Perseus **

Perseus sat upon a great grassy hill that overlooked the rocky ocean beneath him. His father was within that ocean, controlling the currents and the very breath of the sea. It seemed to ebb and recede like the wind across long grass. It had no direction, nor did it wish to. It was only free as a wild stallion. Free like the great Eagle of Zeus, that ruled the skies seeking for justice and truth. It had no rhythm and power, but at a simultaneously turbulent moment, the sea was the most powerful weapon known to all of man. To Argos, it was the weapon that had stopped nations from ever touching the soil of the city. It had stopped wars from ever considered upon. It was the king of life. Life depended on the ocean, perhaps even the owls did.

Hooves gently touched the ground beside him; he knew who stood beside him before he even turned. He knew the very position on her steed; he knew every curve of her graceful body, and her sweet breaths. He had known this woman since he was born in his dreams and distant thought processes, before he had even known her name…she had been known to him. Her deep, wine-purple cloak circled her slim form beautifully. Her chestnut stallion still seemed youthful, despite being years older than he had been when the King last laid eyes on him. With a slight wave of sea breeze, the cloak's hood fell away from her impeccable face. His breath choked itself within his throat. Perseus pondered if her beauty would never astound him.

Her features had sharped like blades. Her cheekbones that had once been rounded and sweet like newly budded flowers, now had heightened and became as sharp as Zeus' own sword. Her jawline had become strong and determined, and her gentle laugh lines had all but diminished. Her lips once full and warm of smiles, were now set in a grim line of raw, undefined perseverance. She seemed to carry the world upon her shoulders as she looked out across the bay with a fiery look in her beautiful, wide grey eyes. Perseus' eyes moved to her long and twisted hair that had become so tangled and curled from the untamable wind of her ride that it moved like a living creature within itself. The sunset was beginning to dawn and the colors of the sky faded perfectly with every highlight and color of her golden hair. She was wild. She was angry. She was…beautiful.

Silena rode up beside the queen and King with a sly, foxy smile upon her face. Her own hair was braided simply with diamonds that made her glossy hair shimmer in the dimming sky's light. Her dress was, more or less, a number of translucent skirts and silks that made her form stand out amongst them both like a goddess, rather than a woman. She preferred to flaunt her beauty, than wear it with simplistically like the very queen she stood beside.

"Annabeth…" Perseus breathed. He tried to grasp for words to address her, but his tongue tripped over every one and he failed. Then her sharp, piercing eyes met his. He saw it. He saw the light, wisdom, and life within her. She yearned for him, but she hated him for what he had done to her. She would deliver no mercy for his sins, but at the same moment, she wanted to ease his own heartache.

"Silena has brought us here on the matter of our son, my lord. I wish to address the problem at hand, before we speak of our past encounters." It was a cold slap of water across the King's face. Her words were crisp and clipped with a bitterness that dismissed all feeling and emotion. He could hear nothing but the sound of her cool voice within his head. Pain deepened itself within him like a festering wound, his face hardened and he met her eyes once more.

"Although you both keep your secrets locked away from each other, I wish to speak on behalf of the new problem that is beginning to rise. Perseus, your Kingdom is under the attack of a group of murderers who address themselves as _L_. This group will forge a fiery path of death and torture to your crown if you do not protect it. This leads me to point out the matter of your son, the heir of three thrones."

Both Annabeth and Perseus continued to stare at one another with a glare that could have burned through the Earth itself. "Prince Emery must be dead to the people for the Kingdom to be at peace." The glare was broken as both turned their heads violently towards Silena.

Perseus' face burned with a rash anger that was dangerous to be treading upon. His hands tightened upon the mane of his stallion. "I will not kill my son, Silena! You promised me that we could ensure his security. Have you lied to your King?" His voice becoming quiet, but one with ears could hear the anger that lay within it, the anger that could have destroyed nations if it truly was unleashed.

"Lady, I would not allow my son to fall under any dangers. He is protected by the finest guardsmen in all of Greece; I believe that there is nothing to fear for his safety." Annabeth's voice rang out clearly over the King's angry one.

A sly smile came to the prophetess' face, while her eyes seemed to shift to a dark blue that was guarded and secretive. "You do not listen to my words, my lord and lady." She raised her chin ever so slightly in a provocative, yet elegant way that made the golden hues of the sun fall upon her face beautifully. For a moment, the King remembered her mother, the goddess, Aphrodite.

"I denounce the very answer of our problems with killing _my _son! I will not slay him as if he is my own enemy, for he is not! He is _my _flesh and blood, Silena. I will _not _allow him to be harmed, mark my words over my body's dead flesh." He snapped coolly over the fresh air of the sea.

"Wait, my lord…" Annabeth met the oracle's eyes. She turned to Perseus and a sudden realization glowed in her eyes. Was it at all possible to fall deeper in love with this woman? The light behind her grey eyes seemed to shine through the dimming light; pure brilliance illuminated her face as she gave a small, meek smile. "He must be dead to the _people_…"

Then it came to the King what the women were telling him. The babe must appear dead to the Kingdom. His heart would have to stop before the eyes of others; his death must be witnessed to be believed. King Perseus met Annabeth's eyes with a slight nod, showing he understood. How would they feign the death of the little prince? The heir to the Cretian throne was a valuable source that many kings relied upon for future years. Crete was an island that the produced the beautiful grapes that made the sweetest wine, the very wine that the gods drank. It was a naval base for many kingdoms to dock their ships upon; the king of Crete had to be a man of great valor and uniqueness. He had to be a man that was unlike any other man, beast, and god. His heart was required to be open to any man or women of the world; the island itself was made up of a mass of diversity. Crete was a special island, indeed. Emery would rule it one day, Perseus would see to it.

"His milk will be laced with a poison, but one that will make him seem like he is dead. His death must be subtle and draw no suspicious questions of life, for if one pries close enough to feigned deaths, it is often very likely they will discover the truth. I urge you to allow me to touch the child with my own power, allow me to make him weak and sleepy for a day so that the act will be committed." The oracle's voice was soft as she thought through what must be done.

"May I tell Nico?" Annabeth asked with a quiet tone, but her eyes were downcast allowing her long, twisted eyelashes to touch her cheeks.

"No." Silena's answer was sharp like a wrong cord on the harp. "Charles is not to know of this, either, my King." She met Perseus' eyes with a foreboding light within hers.

"Very well, my lady."

"Lady Annabeth, I would advise you to confide with the King with the encounter with your mother, before you accuse him of wrongs he did not commit." Silena's sly grin touched her lips again as she met the queen's eyes, before her horse reared and raced off down the side of the hill. There was only silence and the horses' breathing between the King and queen.

He only wanted to stare at her for a moment, or perhaps an eternity. He wanted to take her from her steed and cling to her within his arms as if she was a child. He could see it in her eyes she did not wish to speak, but they both knew that one or the other must. They could not keep up this silent falsehood that they had never known one another. His heart was not capable of continuing when she looked at him like she did now. Her grey eyes were filled with malice as she tossed her crazed curls around her back in an array of gold. Perhaps she had conceived an idea that she had fallen out of his favor, and that she did not make his heart continue beating with every breath he took.

It was silent for a moment more so before the queen sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "How do you fair, Perseus?" She asked softly as if she would wake a sleeping world if she spoke any louder.

"Annabeth, I am only as strong as my love holds." He gently slipped from Cabe and walked to the queen's horse. He watched her face as he looked up into it. It was furrowed with anguish and pain written upon it, she, too, had not forgotten the night they had last met. He could see the rigid distrust in her eyes, but the want to trust him once more just as so.

"Is that so, my lord? I concluded that we were finished with one another." Her eyes became guarded and her face became rocky with no expression or ounce of emotion within her. It would be war, she wanted to wage against him. _So be it, my love._ Perseus thought to himself as he met her eyes once more.

"You are the world, Annabeth, my breath and life. I sent your love away the night of my homecoming, my dear, because if I had not I would have done a grave disservice to Nico. He is perhaps one of my dearest comrades, my lady. It was for the greater good of the Kingdom that you were sent from me. I seek your mercy, my dear lovely woman. I do not wish to burden you with my tales of love for you, but only your forgiveness." Perseus kneeled before her, turning his slender, calloused hands up in offering towards her.

**Annabeth **

Even those great and powerful walls that the gods build themselves break. They fall against a grand force of nature that is created by the divine atop the mountain of Olympus. There were weaknesses to every man on the battle, just as the wall. It's weak link in the armor without a defense against it. Annabeth had surrounded herself with these walls, refusing to be touched and loved by a being. She only wished for her son in the moments when she truly felt utterly alone, looking into his beautiful green eyes made her heart beat like a living man's once more. She felt alive when she held him, but now looking into his father's… They were the same eyes, it seemed. Perseus had beautiful deep, green eyes that looked like the depths of the ocean at night. They would fade to a cleaner green when his mood was soaring and his smile lit upon his face, but now they were serious with no jest lingering within them. They were that single brick that lay weakest within her.

Floodgates opened behind her eyes and a single tear trickled across the strong lines of her face and onto Samuel's satiny coat. He sought forgiveness that had already been granted to him, but she could not allow herself to be the helpless woman before him. He seemed to strong and well, but she, Annabeth had been struggling like a drowning man. She could not appear weak, and his eyes on her made her feel like falling from Samuel's back. Anger crept through her veins. No! Her grey eyes flamed forth like a perfect storm; she would not be made destitute and feeble before him. She moved her eyes to the horizon where the moon was quickly becoming the only light for her to see.

"I see that the man, who sees his lover as nothing, is a man that deserves nothing." Annabeth's voice spoke with a strength she did not think she possessed within her no longer.

"You believe that I see you as nothing?" The King asked incredulously. She could see the raw pain within his eyes, that made her own hurt throb violently within her chest. Her stomach was twisting into impossible angels that could have brought her to her knees before him, but she stood unwillingly with her graceful neck held high.

"I believe you saw our love as a ploy for your passion." She knew what she said was false, but it gave her some grim satisfaction to see him suffer at her words. A cruel part of her wanted to scream vulgar, crude things at him, but she fended those words off.

"Then your beliefs have been blown far off by some great North wind." Perseus' words were strong, like himself. They were unwavering and did not meander off of his tone. Annabeth's thoughts stopped when he took her hands within his. His touch feeding some hungry part within her with warmth and love, she could do nothing but allow him to pull her from Samuel. "Sweet woman, come to this cliff with me." He led her to the great cliff that was not far from where they stood. She could see the grand lights of Argos from where they stood, the city alive and thriving like a living creature itself. "Do you see that bright, silver beacon that shines down upon us? The light that Lady Artemis gives to travelers to carry on through the dark? It is the only solace I receive on few nights, when the air is filled with a chill. I find some comfort the moon as she guides over the night because I know that she is your solace in the darkest nights.

"Annabeth, my lady, if I could live out the rest of my days beside you in this moment… If I could bring that sweet, silver beacon to you, I would. I would burn the world down to find you if you were missing. I would build the highest monument in all of time only so you could fly. And, beautiful woman, you dare to tell me that my love for you does not stretch across universes? That it is, at times, one of the few things that I find life in on some days? Woman, you are a wise queen, but let me speak to you of a story. Kings are not given life like the mundane people that we rule; we are like stones that only sit and wait as time passes. We watch like the gods that live in their heavenly reaches, playing men and brothers against one another. It is what we do to keep our kingdoms from destruction and chaos.

"Then there are those kings, like I. We are finally given a life that we do not have to play with or twist to our will. Usually those who are the lucky men marry this life and make her their queen. But, I, I saw this life and I decided to give her my country. This life, I speak of, my dear, is you. I unified this nation so that you might be happy with your husband and father, so that, one day… Perhaps I would be yours. I have done these great feats, because I have loved. I have learned to love from you," he was silent, as he stood looking at her through the darkness. He gentle pushed some hair away from her lovely face, before he turned to his sword. He reached and pulled out Riptide, the musical ring silently evaded the night as it was unleashed from it's slumber.

_Anaklusmos _was a sword that had been crafted within the fires of Poseidon's own forges. It was a beautiful piece of weaponry with fine bronze ringlets rippling across the blade, but the handle was worn from Perseus' usage of the fine sword over the past years of his life. It had been a gift from Chiron when he was young, of course an anecdote had followed of warnings and such, but Perseus had not listened. He wished he could remember what his trainer had told him that day, for it must have been something wise. This sword had meant everything to Perseus, until he had inherited his father's kingdom and Annabeth came into his life. It was his most prized possession, but now, he saw no use in it. He had many celestial bronze swords with the same tactics taken to make Riptide.

"Annabeth, my love, I want you to have my sword. I want you to take it, and train with it. This sword has wielded the power of the me, but you have wielded the power of my heart." He gently pushed it into her hands.

What was this man who stood before her? Her heart was skipping beats wildly like some unrestrained hawk. Was he a man? Or was he a god? He did not deserve to be among these mortal amateurs who resolved to call themselves 'heroes.' He was true hero for what he had done. She was wildly in love with the idea that this whole nation had been a gift to her, and that it was hers. Her legs grew weak and her heart grew heavy as a lump swelled into her throat. She felt like her head may topple her over, but then he caught her. Those strong, powerful muscles inside his wonderful arms caught her. He would always catch her…

"I love you, my King." She said simply, before he pulled her to his lips and her voice was lost to the sound of their two hearts beating as one within itself.


	14. FINAL Author's Note

To My Readers:

I would like to thank all of you for your support through my writings of these books. But sadly, I'm here to tell you that I cannot finish it, at least not now. A few of you have been telling me my writing has been getting choppy and messy, and I love this story to see it fall to what I'm becoming. I have loved writing it, but life's kind of been falling apart, and whenever I sit down to write the ideas that I have been having, it just gets screwed up and too wishy-washy. I feel bad for dragging it on forever, but it's really come to this. Maybe, someday when I think that my writing is back on track, and I'm in the right mind-set I will come back and finish this book. But for now, I can't. It's just too hard and difficult to even try to sit down and write this book anymore.

To all of you who have written a sweet little review offering me praise, you have no idea what it has meant to me. To my favoriters, you guys make my email explode every nine seconds with alerts and it's awesome, it just shows me that you read it and that's awesome. My alerters/followers, thank you. You guys are epic for even giving my story a chance. To my originals, I LOVE YOU! To those of you who offered criticism, it truly helped in its only small little way. I think my writing, as progressively messy as it has become, I think it improved someway. I love you all, even you, you dumb-ass flamer. But I will never forget what you have all taught me. Thank you soooo much!

And thank you to my beloved beta, Sam. Who has been the little extra push I needed in the super rough parts of this series. I LOVE YOU SAM! 3

P.S.- If you want to know what was going to happen, PM me. I don't know if I'll ever update this book again, so if you're dying to know whether Percy and Annabeth ever get together let me know. Thanks!

P.P.S- This story is not OFFICALLY abandoned. So, I ask that none of you pick it up and continue where I left off. (I know none of you would) Thanks!

Words Are My Life,

Fel Hartington


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